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^P  ^enrp  CbtlUfi  JHertoia 


THE  LIFE  OF  BRET   HARTE,  with  Some  Account 
of  the  California  Pioneers.     Illustrated. 

DOGS  AND  MEN.     Illustrated. 

ROAD,  TRACK  AND  STABLE.     Illustrated. 


THE  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 


THE  LIFE  OF 

BRET  HARTE 

WITH  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE 
CALIFORNIA  PIONEERS 

BY 

HENRY  CHILDS  MERWIN 


WITH  PORTRAITS 
AND  OTHER  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON  AND  NEW   YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

(Cte  Bitier^ibe  pre#  Cambrili0e 

1911 


COPYRIGHT,   191 1,  BY  HENRY   CHILDS  MERWIN 
ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  September  tgii 


TO 
THIS  BOOK  IS  AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED 


PREFACE 


It  is  a  pleasure  for  the  Author  of  this  book  to  record 
his  indebtedness  to  others  in  preparing  it.  Mrs.  T.  Edgar 
Pemberton,  and  Messrs.  C.  Arthur  Pearson,  Limited,  the 
publishers  of  Pemberton's  Life  of  Bret  Harte,  have  kindly 
consented  to  the  quotation  from  that  interesting  book 
of  several  letters  by  Mr.  Harte  that  throw  much  light 
upon  his  character.  Similar  permission  was  given  by  Mr. 
Howells  and  his  publishers,  the  Messrs.  Harper  and 
Brothers,  to  make  use  of  Mr.  Howells*  account  of  Bret 
Harte's  visit  to  him  at  Cambridge ;  and  of  this  permission 
the  Author  has  availed  himself  with  a  freedom  which  the 
Reader  at  least  will  not  regret. 

Professor  Raymond  Weeks,  President  of  the  Ameri- 
can Dialect  Society,  Professor  C.  Alphonso  Smith,  Mr. 
Albert  Matthews,  and  others  whose  names  are  mentioned 
on  page  326,  have  lent  their  aid  in  regard  to  the  Pioneer 
language,  and  Ernest  Knaufft,  Bret  Harte's  nephew,  has 
not  only  furnished  the  Author  with  some  information 
about  his  uncle's  early  life,  but  he  has  also  read  the 
proofs,  and  has  made  more  than  one  valuable  suggestion 
which  the  Author  was  glad  to  adopt.  It  is  only  fair  to 
add  that  Mr.  Knaufft  does  not  in  all  respects  agree  with 
the  Author's  estimate  of  Bret  Harte's  character.  An- 
other critic,  Prescott  Hartford  Belknap,  has  put  his  fine 
literary  taste  at  the  service  of  the  book,  and  has  saved 
its  writer  from  some  mistakes  which  he  now  shudders  to 
contemplate. 

Most  of  all,  however,  the  Author  is  indebted  to  his 
accomplished  friend,  Edwin  Munroe  Bacon,  who,  though 
much  engaged  with  important  literary  work  of  his  own, 


viii  PREFACE 

has  read  the  book  twice,  once  in  MS.  and  once  in  print, 
—  a  signal,  not  to  say  painful  proof  of  friendship  which 
the  Author  acknowledges  with  gratitude,  and  almost 
with  shame. 

H.  C.  M. 


CONTENTS 

I.  Bret  Harte's  Ancestry i 

n.  Bret  Harte's  Boyhood      13 

III.  Bret  Harte's  Wanderings  in  California  .  18 

IV.  Bret  Harte  in  San  Francisco 32 

V.  The  Pioneer  Men  and  Women      ....  53 

VI.  Pioneer  Life 85 

Vn.  Pioneer  Law  and  Lawlessness      .    .    .    .120 

VEIL  Women  and  Children  among  the  Pioneers   140 

IX.  Friendship  among  the  Pioneers     .    .    .    .157 

X.  Gambling  in  Pioneer  Times 168 

XI.  Other  Forms  of  Business 181 

XII.  Literature,  Journalism  and  Religion  .  .192 
XIII.  Bret  Harte's  Departure  from  Californla  214 
XrV.  Bret  Harte  in  the  East  .    .    .    .    .    .    .220 

XV.  Bret  Harte  at  Crefeld 251 

XVI.  Bret  Harte  at  Glasgow 266 

XVII.  Bret  Harte  in  London 274 

XVIII.  Bret  Harte  as  a  Writer  of  Fiction     .    .  293 
XIX.  Bret  Harte  as  a  Poet 308 


X  CONTENTS 

XX.  Bret  Harte's  Pioneer  Dialect 321 

XXI.  Bret  Harte's  Style 330 

Index 347 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Bret  Harte  (Photogravure) Frontispiece. 

From  a  photograph  by  HoUyer  taken  in  1896. 

Bernard  Hart,  Bret  Harte's  Grandfather  ...      6 
From  a  painting  in  the  possession  of  Messrs.  Arthur  Lipper  &• 
Co.,  New  York. 

San  Francisco,  November,  1844 24 

After  a  sketch  by  J.  C.  Ward. 

Bret  Harte  in  1861 32 

The  facsimile  of  Bret  Harte's  handwriting  is  taken  from  the 
back  of  the  photograph  in  the  possession  of  Miss  Elizabeth 
Benton  Fremont. 

Storeship  Apollo,  used  as  a  Saloon 40 

After  a  drawing  by  W.  Taber. 

Grand  Plaza,  San  Francisco,  1852 60 

From  an  old  print. 

The  First  Hotel  at  San  Francisco 86 

After  a  drawing  by  W.  Taber. 

Miners'  Ball 94 

After  a  drawing  by  A.  Castaigne. 

The  Two  Opponents  Came  Nearer 114 

After  a  drawing  by  Frederic  Remington  illustrating  "The 
Iliad  of  Sandy  Bar." 

Sacramento  City  in  1852 120 

From  an  old  print. 

The  Post-Office,  San  Francisco,  1849-50  ....  144 
After  a  drawing  by  A.  Castaigne. 


xii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

He  Looked  Curiously  at  his  Reflection  .    .    .    .166 
After  a  drawing  by  E.  Boyd  Smith,  illustrating  "Left  Out  on 
Lone  StaF  Mountain." 

Dennison's  Exchange,  and  Parker  House,  Decem- 
ber, 1849,   BEFORE  THE  FiRE 1 78 

After  a  drawing  by  W.  Taber. 

Main  Street,  Nevada  City,  1852 196 

From  a  photograph  in  the  possession  of  Colonel  Thomas  L. 
Livermore. 

The  Bells,  San  Gabriel  Mission 212 

From  a  photograph. 

I  Thought  You  Were  that  Horse-Thief  ....  248 
After  a  drawing  by  Denman  Fink,  illustrating  "Lanty  Foster's 
Mistake." 

The  Home  of  "Truthful  James,"  Jackass  Flat, 

Tuolumne  County,  Californla 310 

From  a  photograph. 


THE  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 


BRET  HARTE 

CHAPTER   I 

BRET   HARTE's   ANCESTRY 

Francis  Brett  Harte  was  born  at  Albany  in  the  State 
of  New  York,  on  August  twenty-fifth,  1836.  By  his  rela- 
tives and  early  friends  he  was  called  Frank ;  but  soon 
after  beginning  his  career  as  an  author  in  San  Francisco 
he  signed  his  name  as  "Brett,"  then  as  "Bret,"  and 
finally  as  "Bret  Harte."  "Bret  Harte,"  therefore,  is  in 
some  degree  a  nom  de  guerre^  and  it  was  commonly  sup- 
posed at  first,  both  in  the  Eastern  States  and  in  England, 
to  be  wholly  such.  Our  great  New  England  novelist  had 
a  similar  experience,  for  "Nathaniel  Hawthorne"  was 
long  regarded  by  most  of  his  readers  as  an  assumed 
name,  happily  chosen  to  indicate  the  quaint  and  poetic 
character  of  the  tales  to  which  it  was  signed.  Bret  Harte's 
father  was  Henry  Hart ;  *  but  before  we  trace  his  ances- 
try, let  us  endeavor  to  see  how  he  looked.  Fanny  Kemble 
met  him  at  Lenox,  in  the  year  1875,  and  was  much  im- 
pressed by  his  appearance.  In  a  letter  to  a  relative  she 
wrote  :  "  He  reminded  me  a  good  deal  of  our  old  pirate 
and  bandit  friend,  Trelawney,  though  the  latter  was  an 
almost  orientally  dark-complexioned  man,  and  Mr.  Bret 
Harte  was  comparatively  fair.  They  were  both  tall,  well- 
made  men  of  fine  figure ;  both,  too,  were  handsome,  with 
a  peculiar  expression  of  face  which  suggested  small  suc- 

1  The  final  e  was  added  to  Henry  Hart's  name  in  the  last  years  of  his 
life,  and  the  family  tradition  is  that  this  was  done  to  distinguish  him  from 
another  Henry  Hart  who,  like  himself,  was  very  active  in  the  political 
campaign  of  the  year  1844. 


2  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

cess  to  any  one  who  might  engage  in  personal  conflict 
with  them." 

In  reaUty  Bret  Harte  was  not  tall,  though  others  beside 
Mrs.  Kemble  thought  him  to  be  so  ;  his  height  was  five 
feet,  eight  and  a  half  inches.  His  face  was  smooth  and 
regular,  without  much  color;  the  chin  firm  and  well 
rounded;  the  nose  straight  and  rather  large,  "the  nose 
of  generosity  and  genius  " ;  the  under-lip  having  what  Mr. 
Howells  called  a  "fascinating,  forward  thrust." 

The  following  description  dates  from  the  time  when 
he  left  California:  "He  was  a  handsome,  distinguished- 
looking  man,  and  although  his  oval  face  was  slightly 
marred  by  scars  of  small-pox,  and  his  abundant  dark 
hair  was  already  streaked  with  gray,  he  carried  his 
slight,  upright  figure  with  a  quiet  elegance  that  would 
have  made  an  impression,  even  when  the  refinement  of 
face,  voice  and  manner  had  not  been  recognized." 

Mr.  Howells  says  of  him  at  the  same  period :  "  He 
was,  as  one  could  not  help  seeing,  thickly  pitted,  but 
after  the  first  glance  one  forgot  this,  so  that  a  lady  who 
met  him  for  the  first  time  could  say  to  him,  '  Mr.  Harte, 
are  n't  you  afraid  to  go  about  in  the  cars  so  recklessly 
when  there  is  this  scare  about  small-pox  .'*  *  *  No ! 
madam  ! '  he  said,  in  that  rich  note  of  his,  with  an  irony 
touched  by  pseudo-pathos,  *  I  bear  a  charmM  life.'  " 

Almost  every  one  who  met  Bret  Harte  was  struck  by 
his  low,  rich,  well-modulated  voice.  Mr.  Howells  speaks 
of  "  the  mellow  cordial  of  a  voice  that  was  like  no  other." 
His  handwriting  was  small,  firm  and  graceful. 

Chance  acquaintances  made  in  England  were  some- 
times surprised  at  Bret  Harte's  appearance.  They  had 
formed,  writes  Mme.  Van  de  Velde,  "a  vague,  intangible 
idea  of  a  wild,  reckless  Californian,  impatient  of  social 
trammels,  whose  life  among  the  Argonauts  must  have 
fashioned  him  after  a  type  differing  widely  from  the 
reality.   These  idealists  were  partly  disappointed,  partly 


BRET  HARTE'S  ANCESTRY  3 

relieved,  when  their  American  writer  turned  out  to  be  a 
quiet,  low-voiced,  easy-mannered,  polished  gentleman, 
who  smilingly  confessed  that  precisely  because  he  had 
roughed  it  a  good  deal  in  his  youth  he  was  inclined  to 
enjoy  the  comforts  and  avail  himself  of  the  facilities  of 
an  older  civilization,  when  placed  within  his  reach." 

Bret  Harte's  knowledge  of  these  disappointed  expect- 
ations may  have  suggested  the  plot  of  that  amusing  story 
Their  Uncle  from  Calif ornia^  the  hero  of  which  presents 
a  similar  contrast  to  the  barbaric  ideal  which  had  been 
formed  by  his  Eastern  relatives. 

The  photographs  of  Bret  Harte,  taken  at  various  pe- 
riods in  his  life,  reveal  great  changes,  apart  from  those 
of  age.  The  first  one,  at  seventeen,  shows  an  intellectual 
youth,  very  mature  for  his  age,  with  a  fine  forehead,  the 
hair  parted  at  one  side,  and  something  of  a  rustic  appear- 
ance. In  the  next  picture,  taken  at  the  age  of  thirty-five 
or  thereabout,  we  see  a  determined-looking  man,  with 
slight  side-whiskers,  a  drooping  mustache,  and  clothes  a 
little  "loud."  Five  years  afterward  there  is  another  pho- 
tograph in  which  the  whiskers  have  disappeared,  the  hair 
seems  longer  and  more  curly,  the  clothes  are  unques- 
tionably "loud,"  and  the  picture,  taken  altogether,  has  a 
slight  tinge  of  Bohemian-like  vulgarity.  In  the  later  pho- 
tographs the  hair  is  shorter,  and  parted  in  the  middle, 
the  mustache  subdued,  the  dress  handsome  and  in  per- 
fect taste,  and  the  whole  appearance  is  that  of  a  refined, 
sophisticated,  aristocratic  man  of  the  world,  dignified, 
and  yet  perfectly  simple,  unaffected  and  free  from  self- 
consciousness. 

In  a  measure  Bret  Harte  seems  to  have  undergone 
that  process  of  development  which  Mr.  Henry  James 
has  described  in  "  The  American."  The  Reader  may  re- 
member how  the  American  (far  from  a  typical  one,  by 
the  way)  began  with  sky-blue  neckties  and  large  plaids, 
and  ended  with  clothes  and  adornments  of  the  most 


4  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

chastened,  correct  and  elegant  character.  Actors  are  apt 
to  go  through  a  similar  process.  The  first  great  exponent 
of  the  "suppressed  emotion"  school  began,  and  in  Cali- 
fornia too,  as  it  happened,  by  splitting  the  ears  of  the 
groundlings  and  sawing  the  air  with  both  arms. 

Bret  Harte  had  something  of  a  Hebrew  look,  and  not 
unnaturally  so,  for  he  came  of  mixed  English,  Dutch  and 
Hebrew  stock.  To  be  exact,  he  was  half  English,  one 
quarter  Dutch,  and  one  quarter  Hebrew.  The  Hebrew 
strain  also  was  derived  from  English  soil,  so  that  with 
the  exception  of  a  Dutch  great-grandmother,  all  his  an- 
cestors emigrated  from  England,  and  not  very  remotely. 

The  Hebrew  in  the  pedigree  was  his  paternal  grand- 
father, Bernard  Hart.  Mr.  Hart  was  born  in  London,  on 
Christmas  Day,  1763  or  1764,  but  as  a  boy  of  thirteen  he 
went  out  to  Canada,  where  his  relatives  were  numerous. 
These  Canadian  Harts  were  a  marked  family,  energetic, 
forceful,  strong-willed,  prosperous,  given  to  hospitality, 
warm-hearted,  and  pleasure-loving.  One  of  Bernard  Hart's 
Canadian  cousins  left  behind  him  at  his  death  no  less 
than  fourteen  families,  all  established  in  the  world  with 
a  good  degree  of  comfort,  and  with  a  sufficient  degree 
of  respectability.  Now  the  impropriety,  to  say  nothing 
about  the  extravagance,  of  maintaining  fourteen  sepa- 
rate famiUes  is  so  great  that  no  Reader  of  this  book  (the 
author  feels  confident)  need  be  warned  against  it ;  and 
yet  it  indicates  a  large,  free-handed,  lordly  way  of  doing 
things.  It  was  no  ordinary  man,  and  no  ordinary  strain  of 
blood  that  could  produce  such  a  record. 

Bernard  Hart  remained  but  three  years  in  Canada,  and 
in  1780  moved  to  New  York  where,  although  scarcely 
more  than  a  boy,  he  acted  as  the  business  representative 
of  his  Canadian  kinsfolk.  The  Canadian  Harts  had  many 
commercial  and  social  relations  with  the  metropolis,  and 
there  was  much  "cousining,"  much  going  back  and  forth 
between  the  two  places.    Bernard  Hart  lived  in  New 


BRET  HARTE'S  ANCESTRY  5 

York  for  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  attained  a  high  rank  in 
the  community.  "  Towering  aloft  among  the  magnates 
of  the  city  of  the  last  and  present  century,"  writes  a  local 
historian,  "  is  Bernard  Hart."  He  was  successful  in  busi- 
ness, very  active  in  social  and  charitable  affairs,  and  pro- 
minent in  the  synagogue.  In  1802  he  formed  a  partnership 
with  Leonard  Lispenard,  under  the  name  of  Lispenard 
and  Hart.  They  were  commission  merchants  and  auc- 
tioneers, and  did  a  large  business.  In  1803  the  firm  was 
dissolved,  and  Mr.  Hart  continued  in  trade  by  himself.  In 
1 83 1  he  became  Secretary  to  the  New  York  Stock  Ex- 
change Board,  and  held  that  office  for  twenty-two  years, 
resigning  at  the  age  of  eighty-nine.  In  1795,  the  year  of 
the  yellow  fever  plague,  Bernard  Hart  rendered  heroic 
service,  as  is  testified  by  a  contemporary  annalist.  **  Mr. 
Hart  and  Mr.  Pell,  who  kept  store  at  108  Market  Street, 
a  few  doors  from  Mr.  Hart,  were  unceasing  in  their  ex- 
ertions. Night  and  day,  hardly  giving  themselves  time 
to  sleep  or  eat,  they  were  among  the  sick  and  dying,  re- 
lieving their  wants.  They  were  angels  of  mercy  in  those 
awful  days  of  the  first  great  pestilence." 

Bernard  Hart  was  also  a  military  man,  and  in  1797 
became  quartermaster  of  a  militia  regiment,  composed 
wholly  of  citizens  of  New  York.  That  he  was  a  "  club- 
able"  man,  too,  is  very  apparent.  It  was  an  era  of  clubs, 
and  Bernard  Hart  founded  the  association  known  as 
"The  Friary."  It  met  on  the  first  and  third  Sundays  of 
every  month  at  56  Pine  Street.  He  was  also  President 
of  The  House  of  Lords,  a  merchants'  club,  which  met  at 
Baker's  City  Tavern  every  week-day  night,  at  7  o'clock, 
adjourning  at  10  o'clock.  Each  member  was  allowed  a 
limited  quantity  of  liquor,  business  was  discussed,  con- 
tracts were  made,  and  sociability  was  promoted.  He  was, 
too,  a  member  of  the  St.  George  Society,  and  is  said, 
also,  to  have  been  a  Mason,  belonging  to  Holland  Lodge 
No.  8,  of  which  John  Jacob  Astor  was  master  in  1798. 


6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Bernard  Hart  was  a  devout  Jew,  and  his  name  frequently 
appears  in  the  records  of  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese 
Synagogue,  known  as  the  Congregation  Shearith  Israel, 
the  first  synagogue  established  in  New  York.  He  lived 
in  various  houses,  —  at  86  Water  Street,  at  24  Cedar 
Street,  at  12  Lispenard  Street,  at  20  Varick  Street,  and 
finally  at  23  White  Street.  A  picture  of  him  still  hangs 
in  the  counting-room  of  Messrs.  Arthur  Lipper  and  Co., 
in  Broad  Street. 

How  came  it  that  this  orthodox  Jew,  this  pillar  of  the 
synagogue,  married  a  Christian  woman  }  The  romance, 
if  there  was  one,  is  imperfectly  preserved  even  in  the 
family  traditions.  It  is  known  only  that  in  1799  Bernard 
Hart  married  Catharine  Brett,  a  woman  of  good  family; 
that  after  living  together  for  a  year  or  less,  they  sepa- 
rated; that  there  was  one  son,  Henry  Hart,  born  Febru- 
ary I,  1800,  who  lived  with  his  mother,  and  who  became 
the  father  of  Bret  Harte. 

A  few  years  later,  in  1 806,  Bernard  Hart  married  Zip- 
porah  Seixas,  one  of  the  sixteen  children,  eight  sons  and 
eight  daughters,  born  to  Benjamin  Mendez  Seixas.  These 
young  women  were  noted  for  their  beauty  and  amia- 
bility, and  so  strong  was  the  impression  which  they  pro- 
duced that  it  lasted  even  until  the  succeeding  genera- 
tion. The  marriage  ceremony  was  performed  by  Gershom 
Mendez  Seixas,  a  brother  of  the  bride's  father,  and 
rabbi  of  the  synagogue  already  mentioned.  From  this 
marriage  came  numerous  sons  and  daughters,  whose 
careers  were  honorable.  Emanuel  B.  Hart  was  a  mer- 
chant and  broker,  an  alderman,  a  member  of  Congress 
in  1 85 1  and  1852,  and  Surveyor  of  the  Port  of  New 
York  from  1859  to  1861.  Benjamin  I.  Hart  was  a 
broker  in  New  York.  David  Hart,  a  teller  in  the  Pacific 
Bank,  fought  gallantly  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  and  was 
badly  wounded  there.  Theodore  and  Daniel  Hart  were 
merchants  in  New  York. 


BERNARD    HART 
Bret  Harte's  Grandfather 


BRET  HARTE'S  ANCESTRY  7 

One  of  Bernard  Hart's  sons  by  the  Hebrew  wife 
was  named  Henry.  He  was  born  in  181 7,  and  died  of 
consumption  in  his  father's  house  in  White  Street  on 
November  16,  1850.  He  was  unmarried.  Bernard  Hart 
himself  died  in  1855,  at  the  age  of  ninety-one.  His  wife 
was  then  living  at  the  age  of  seventy-nine. 

None  of  his  descendants  on  the  Hebrew  side  knew 
of  his  marriage  to  Catharine  Brett  or  of  the  existence 
of  his  son,  the  first  Henry  Hart,  until  some  years  after 
Bret  Harte's  death.  It  seems  almost  incredible  that 
this  Hebrew  merchant,  prominent  as  he  was  in  business 
and  social  life,  in  clubs  and  societies,  in  the  militia  and 
the  synagogue,  should  have  been  able  to  keep  the  fact 
of  his  first  marriage  so  secret  that  it  remained  a  secret 
for  a  hundred  years  ;  it  seems  very  unlikely  that  a 
woman  of  good  English  birth  and  family  should  in  that 
era  have  married  a  Jew ;  it  is  highly  improbable  that  a 
father  should  give  to  a  son  by  a  second  marriage  the 
same  name  already  given  to  his  son  by  a  former  mar- 
riage. And  yet  all  these  things  are  indisputable  facts. 
There  are  members  of  Bret  Harte's  family  still  living 
who  remember  Bernard  Hart,  and  his  occasional  visits 
to  the  family  of  Henry  Hart,  his  son  by  Catharine  Brett, 
whom  he  assisted  with  money  and  advice  so  long  as  he 
lived.  Bret  Harte  himself  remembered  being  taken  to 
the  New  York  Stock  Exchange  by  his  father,  who  there 
pointed  out  to  him  his  grandfather,  Bernard  Hart.  It 
may  be  added  that  between  the  descendants  of  Bernard 
Hart  and  Catharine  Brett  and  those  of  Bernard  Hart 
and  Zipporah  Seixas  there  is  a  marked  resemblance. 

How  far  was  the  venerable  Jew  from  suspecting  that 
the  one  fact  in  his  life  which  he  was  so  anxious  to  con- 
ceal was  the  very  fact  which  would  rescue  his  name 
from  oblivion,  and  preserve  it  so  long  as  English  litera- 
ture shall  exist !  Even  if  the  marriage  to  Catharine 
Brett,  a  Christian  woman,  had  been  known  it  would  not, 


8  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTi: 

according  to  Jewish  law,  have  invalidated  the  second 
marriage,  but  it  would  doubtless  have  prevented  that 
marriage.  What  rendered  the  long  concealment  possi- 
ble was,  of  course,  the  deep  gulf  which  then  separated 
Jew  from  Gentile.  Catharine  Brett  had  been  warned  by 
her  father  that  he  would  cast  her  off  if  she  married  the 
Jew ;  and  this  threat  was  fulfilled.  Thenceforth,  she 
lived  a  lonely  and  secluded  life,  supported,  it  is  believed, 
by  her  husband,  but  having  no  other  relation  with  him. 
The  marriage  was  so  improbable,  so  ill-assorted,  so  pro- 
ductive of  unhappiness,  and  yet  so  splendid  in  its  ulti- 
mate results,  that  it  seems  almost  atheistic  to  ascribe 
it  to  chance.  Is  the  world  governed  in  that  haphazard 
manner ! 

But  who  was  this  unfortunate  Catharine  Brett  ?  She 
was  a  granddaughter  of  Roger  Brett,  an  Englishman, 
and,  it  is  supposed,  a  lieutenant  in  the  British  Navy, 
who  first  appears  in  New  York,  about  the  year  1700,  as 
a  friend  of  Lord  Cornbury,  then  Governor  of  the  Pro- 
vince. The  coat  of  arms  which  Roger  Brett  brought 
over,  and  which  is  still  preserved  on  a  pewter  placque, 
is  identical  with  that  borne  by  Judge,  Sir  Balliol  Brett, 
before  his  elevation  to  the  peerage  as  Viscount  Esher. 
Roger  Brett  was  a  vestryman  of  Trinity  Church  from 
1703  to  1706.  In  November,  1703,  he  married  Catharyna 
Rombout,  daughter  of  Francis  Rombout,  who  was  one  of 
the  early  and  successful  merchants  in  the  city  of  New 
York.  Her  mother,  Helena  Teller,  daughter  of  William 
Teller,  a  captain  in  the  Indian  wars,  was  married  three 
times,  Francis  Rombout  being  her  third  husband.  Schuyler 
Colfax,  once  Vice-President  of  the  United  States,  was  de- 
scended from  her.  Francis  Rombout  was  born  at  Hasselt 
in  Belgium,  and  came  to  New  Amsterdam  while  it  still 
belonged  to  the  Dutch.  He  was  an  elder  in  the  Dutch 
Church,  served  as  lieutenant  in  an  expedition  against  the 
Swedes,  was  Schepen  under  the  Dutch  municipal  govern- 


BRET  HARTE'S  ANCESTRY  9 

ment,  alderman  under  the  reorganized  British  govern- 
ment, and,  in  1679,  became  the  twelfth  Mayor  of  New 
York. 

Francis  Rombout  left  to  his  daughter,  Roger  Brett's 
wife,  an  immense  estate  on  the  Hudson  River,  which  in- 
cluded the  Fishkills,  and  consisted  chiefly  of  forest  land. 
There,  in  1709,  the  young  couple  built  for  their  home  a 
manor  house,  which  is  still  standing  and  is  occupied  by 
a  descendant  of  Roger  Brett,  to  whom  it  has  come  down 
in  direct  Une  through  the  female  branch,  A  few  years 
later,  at  least  before  1720,  Roger  Brett  was  drowned  at 
the  mouth  of  Fishkill  Creek  in  the  Hudson  River.  Cath- 
aryna,  his  widow,  survived  him  for  many  years.  She  was 
a  woman  of  marked  character  and  ability,  known  through 
all  that  region  as  Madame  Brett.  She  administered  her 
large  estate,  leased  and  sold  much  land  to  settlers,  con- 
trolled the  Indians  who  were  numerous,  superintended 
a  mill  to  which  both  Dutchess  County  and  Orange  County 
sent  their  grist,  owned  the  sloops  which  were  the  only 
carriers  between  this  outpost  of  the  Colony  and  the  city 
of  New  York,  and  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Fish- 
kill  Dutch  Church.  In  that  church,  a  tablet  to  her  mem- 
ory was  recently  erected  by  the  Rombout-Brett  Associa- 
tion, formed  a  few  years  ago  by  her  descendants.  The 
tablet  is  inscribed  as  follows  :  — 

In  memory  of  Catharyna  Brett,  widow  of  Lieuten- 
ant Roger  Brett,  R.  JV.,  and  daughter  of  Francis  Rom- 
bout, a  grantee  of  Rombout  patent,  born  in  the  city  of 
New  York  idSy,  died  in  Rombout  Precinct,  Fishkill, 
1764.  To  this  church  she  was  a  liberal  contributor, 
and  underneath  its  pulpit  her  body  is  interred.  This 
tablet  was  erected  by  her  descendants  and  others  inter- 
ested in  the  Colonial  history  of  Fishkill,  A.  D.  ig04. 

Roger  Brett  had  four  sons,  of  whom  two  died  young 
and  unmarried,  and  two,  Francis  and  Robert,  married, 
and  left  many  children.  Whether  the  Catharine  Brett 


lo  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

who  married  Bernard  Hart  was  descended  from  Francis 
or  from  Robert  is  not  certainly  known.  Francis  Brett's 
wife  was  a  descendant  of  Cornelius  Van  Wyck,  one  of 
the  earliest  settlers  on  Long  Island.  Robert  Brett's  wife 
was  a  Miss  Dubois. 

Such  was  the  ancestry  of  Bret  Harte's  paternal  grand- 
mother. Her  son,  Henry  Hart/  lived  with  her  until,  on 
May  5,  1 817,  he  entered  Union  College,  Schenectady,  as 
a  member  of  the  class  of  1820.  He  remained  in  college 
until  the  end  of  his  Senior  year,  and  passed  all  his  ex- 
aminations for  graduation,  but  failed  to  receive  his  de- 
gree because  a  college  bill  amounting  to  ninety  dollars 
had  not  been  paid.  The  previous  bills  were  paid  by  his 
mother,  **  Catharine  Hart."  Alas !  the  non-payment  of  this 
bill  was  an  omen  of  the  future.  Henry  Hart  and  his  illus- 
trious son  were  both  the  reverse  of  thrifty  or  economical. 
Money  seemed  to  fly  away  from  them ;  they  had  no  ca- 
pacity for  keeping  it,  and  no  discretion  in  spending  it. 
Unpaid  bills  were  the  bane  of  their  existence.  Henry 
Hart's  improvidence  is  ascribed,  in  part,  by  those  who 
knew  him,  to  the  irregular  manner  in  which  his  father 
supplied  him  with  money,  Bernard  Hart  being  some- 
times very  lavish  and  sometimes  very  parsimonious  with 
his  son. 

Henry  Hart  was  a  well-built,  athletic-looking  man,  with 
rather  large  features,  and  dark  hair  and  complexion.  His 
height  was  five  feet  ten  inches,  and  his  weight  one 
hundred  and  seventy  pounds.  He  was  an  accomplished 
scholar,  speaking  French,  Spanish  and  Italian,  and  being 
well  versed  in  Greek  and  Latin.  He  passed  his  short  life 
as  school-teacher,  tutor,  lecturer  and  translator. 

On  May  16,  1830,  he  married  Elizabeth  Rebecca, 
daughter  of  Henry  Philip  Ostrander,  an  "upstate"  sur- 
veyor and  farmer,  who  belonged  to  a  prominent  Dutch 
family  which  settled  at  Kingston  on  the  Hudson  in 
1  For  the  spelling  of  Henry  Hart's  name,  see  the  footnote  on  page  i. 


BRET  HARTE'S  ANCESTRY  ii 

1659.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  hero  of  Bret 
Harte's  story,  Two  Americans ^  is  Major  Philip  Ostran- 
der.  The  mother  of  Elizabeth  Ostrander,  Henry  Hart's 
wife,  was  Abigail  Truesdale,  of  English  descent.  Henry 
Hart  was  brought  up  by  his  mother  in  the  Dutch  Re- 
formed faith,  but  soon  after  leaving  college,  owing  to 
what  influence  is  unknown,  he  became  a  Catholic,  and  re- 
mained such  until  his  death.  His  wife  was  an  Episcopa- 
lian, and  his  children  were  of  that,  if  of  any  persuasion. 

In  1833  we  find  Henry  Hart  at  Albany,  and  there  he 
remained  until  1836,  the  year  of  Bret  Harte's  birth.  In 
1833  and  1834,  he  was  instructor  in  the  Albany  Female 
Academy,  a  girls'  school,  famous  in  its  day,  where  he 
taught  reading  and  writing,  rhetoric  and  mathematics. 
Early  in  1835  he  left  the  Academy,  and  for  two  years 
he  conducted  a  private  school  of  his  own  at  1 5  Colum- 
bia Street,  but  this  appears  not  to  have  been  success- 
ful, for  he  ceased  to  be  a  resident  of  the  city  in  the  lat- 
ter part  of  1836,  or  early  in  1837.  ^^^  event  in  Henry 
Hart's  life  at  Albany  is  significant.  In  December,  1833, 
a  meeting  was  held  in  the  Mayor's  Court  Room  to  or- 
ganize a  Young  Men's  Association,  which  proved  to  be 
a  great  success,  and  which  has  played  an  important  part 
in  the  life  of  the  city  down  to  the  present  day.  Henry 
Hart,  though  a  comparative  stranger  in  Albany,  was 
chosen  to  explain  the  objects  of  the  Association  at  this 
meeting,  and  at  the  next  meeting  he  was  elected  one  of 
the  Managers.  When  Bret  Harte  came  East  from  Cali- 
fornia, he  went  to  Albany  and  addressed  the  Associa- 
tion, upon  the  invitation  of  its  members. 

After  leaving  Albany  the  family  led  an  unsettled,  un- 
comfortable life,  going  from  place  to  place,  with  occa- 
sional returns  to  the  home  of  an  Ostrander  relative  in 
Hudson  Street  in  the  city  of  New  York.  The  late  Mr. 
A.  V.  S.  Anthony,  the  well-known  engraver,  was  a  neigh- 
bor of  Bret  Harte  in  Hudson  Street,  and  played  and 


12  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

fought  with  him  there,  when  they  were  both  about  seven 
or  eight  years  old.  Afterward  they  met  in  California,  and 
again  in  London.  From  Albany  the  Henry  Hart  family 
went  to  Hudson,  where  Mr.  Hart  acted  as  principal  of 
an  academy  ;  and  subsequently  they  lived  in  New  Bruns- 
wick, New  Jersey;  in  Philadelphia ;  in  Providence,  Rhode 
Island ;  in  Lowell,  Massachusetts ;  in  Boston  and  else- 
where. 

A  few  years  before  her  death  Mrs.  Hart  read  the  life 
of  Bronson  Alcott,  and  when  she  laid  down  the  book 
she  remarked  that  the  troubles  and  privations  endured 
by  the  Alcott  family  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  those 
which  she  and  her  children  had  undergone.  Some  want 
of  balance  in  Henry  Hart's  character  prevented  him, 
notwithstanding  his  undoubted  talents,  his  enthusiasm, 
and  his  accomplishments,  from  ever  obtaining  any  ma- 
terial success  in  life,  or  even  a  home  for  his  family  and 
himself.  But  he  was  a  man  of  warm  impulses  and  deep 
feeling.  When  Henry  Clay  was  nominated  for  the  Presi- 
dency in  1844,  Henry  Hart  espoused  his  cause  almost 
with  fury.  He  gave  up  all  other  employment  to  election- 
eer in  behalf  of  the  Whig  candidate,  and  the  defeat  of 
his  idol  was  a  crushing  blow  from  which  he  never  re- 
covered. It  was  the  first  time  that  a  really  great  man,  as 
Clay  certainly  was,  had  been  outvoted  in  a  contest  for 
the  Presidency  by  a  commonplace  man,  like  Polk ;  and 
Clay's  defeat  was  regarded  by  his  adherents  not  only  as 
a  hideous  injustice,  but  as  a  national  calamity.  It  is  not 
given  to  every  one  to  take  any  impersonal  matter  so  seri- 
ously as  Henry  Hart  took  the  defeat  of  his  political 
chieftain  ;  and  his  death  a  year  later,  in  1845,  ^^Y  justly 
be  regarded  as  a  really  noble  ending  to  a  troubled  and 
unsuccessful  life. 


CHAPTER  II 

BRET   HARTE's   BOYHOOD 

After  the  death  of  Henry  Hart,  his  widow  remained 
with  her  children  in  New  York  and  Brooklyn  until  1853. 
They  were  supported  in  part  by  her  family,  the  Ostran- 
ders,  and  in  part  by  Bernard  Hart.  There  were  four 
children,  two  sons  and  two  daughters.  Eliza,  the  eldest, 
who  is  still  living,  and  to  whom  the  author  is  indebted 
for  information  about  the  family,  was  married  in  1851  to 
Mr.  F.  F.  Knaufft,  and  her  life  has  been  passed  mainly 
in  New  York  and  New  Jersey.  Mr.  Ernest  Knaufft,  edi- 
tor of  the  "Art  Student,"  and  well  known  as  a  critic  and 
writer,  is  her  son.  Unfortunately,  Mrs.  Knaufft's  house 
was  burned  in  1868,  and  with  it  many  letters  and  papers 
relating  to  her  father  and  his  parents,  and  also  the  MSS. 
of  various  lectures  delivered  by  him. 

The  younger  daughter,  Margaret  B.,  went  to  Califor- 
nia with  Bret  Harte,  and  preceded  him  as  a  contributor 
of  stories  and  sketches  to  the  "  Golden  Era,"  and  other 
papers  in  San  Francisco.  She  married  Mr.  B.  H.  Wyman, 
and  is  still  a  resident  of  California.  Bret  Harte's  sisters 
are  women  of  distinguished  appearance,  and  remarkable 
for  force  of  character. 

Bret  Harte's  only  brother,  Henry,  had  a  short  but 
striking  career,  which  displayed,  even  more  perhaps  than 
did  the  career  of  Bret  Harte  himself,  that  intensity 
which  seems  to  have  been  their  chief  inheritance  from 
the  Hebrew  strain.  The  following  account  of  him  is 
furnished  by  Mrs.  Knaufft :  — 

"  My  brother  Henry  was  two  years  and  six  months 
older  than  his  brother  Francis  Brett  Harte.  Henry  be- 


14  LIFE   OF   BRET   HARTE 

gan  reading  history  when  he  was  six  years  old,  and  from 
that  time  until  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  he  read  his- 
tory, ancient  and  modern,  daily,  sometimes  only  one 
hour,  at  other  times  from  two  to  three  hours.  What  in- 
terested him  was  the  wars  ;  he  would  read  for  two  or 
three  hours,  and  then  if  a  battle  had  been  won  by  his 
favorite  warriors,  he  would  spring  to  his  feet,  shouting, 
'Victory  is  ours,'  repeatedly.  He  would  read  lying  on 
the  floor,  and  often  we  would  say  ridiculous  and  pro- 
voking things  about  him,  and  sometimes  pull  his  hair, 
but  he  never  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  us,  being 
perfectly  oblivious  of  his  surroundings.  His  memory 
was  phenomenal.  He  read  Froissart's  Chronicles  when 
he  was  about  ten  years  old,  and  could  repeat  page  after 
page  accurately.  One  evening  an  old  professor  was  talk- 
ing with  my  mother  about  some  event  in  ancient  history, 
and  he  mentioned  the  date  of  a  decisive  battle.  Henry, 
who  was  listening  intently,  said,  *  I  beg  pardon.  Professor, 
you  are  wrong.  That  battle  was  fought  on  such  a  date.' 
The  professor  was  astonished.  *  Where  did  you  hear  about 
that  battle.?'  he  asked.  *I  read  that  history  last  year,' 
replied  Henry. 

"  When  the  boy  was  twelve  years  old,  he  came  home 
from  school  one  day,  and  rushing  into  his  mother's  room, 
shouted,  *  War  is  declared !  War  is  declared  ! '  *  What 
in  the  name  of  common  sense  has  that  got  to  do  with 
you } '  asked  my  mother.  '  Mother,'  said  Henry,  *  I  am 
going  to  fight  for  my  country ;  that  is  what  I  was  created 
for.' 

"  After  some  four  or  five  months  of  constant  anxiety, 
caused  by  Henry's  offering  himself  to  every  captain  whose 
ship  was  going  to  or  near  Mexico,  a  friend  of  my  mother's 
told  Lieutenant  Benjamin  Dove  of  the  Navy  about 
Henry,  and  he  became  greatly  interested,  and  finally, 
through  his  efforts,  Henry  was  taken  on  his  ship.  Henry 
was  so  small  that  his  uniform  had  to  be  made  for  him. 


BRET  HARTE'S   BOYHOOD  15 

The  ship  went  ashore  on  the  Island  of  Eleuthera,  to  the 
great  delight  of  my  brother,  who  wrote  his  mother  a 
startling  account  of  the  shipwreck.  I  cannot  remember 
whether  the  ship  was  able  to  go  on  her  voyage,  or  whether 
the  men  were  all  transferred  to  Commander  Tatnall's 
ship  the  'Spitfire.'  I  know  that  Henry  was  on  Commander 
Tatnall's  ship  at  the  Bombardment  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  was 
in  the  fort  or  forts  at  Tuxpan,  where  the  Commander  and 
Henry  were  both  wounded.  Commander  Tatnall  wrote  my 
mother  that  when  Henry  was  wounded,  he  exclaimed, 
*  Thank  God,  I  am  shot  in  the  face,'  and  that  when  he 
inquired  for  Henry,  he  was  told  that  he  was  hiding  be- 
cause he  did  not  want  his  wound  dressed.  When  the 
Commander  found  Henry,  he  asked  him  why  he  did  not 
want  his  wound  dressed.  With  tears  in  his  eyes  Henry 
said,  'Because  I'm  afraid  it  won't  show  any  scar  if  the 
surgeon  dresses  it.' 

"  When  my  brother  returned  from  Mexico,  he  became 
very  restless.  The  sea  had  cast  its  spell  about  him,  and 
finally  a  friend,  captain  of  a  ship,  took  Henry  on  a  very 
long  voyage,  going  around  Cape  Horn  to  California. 
When  they  arrived  at  San  Francisco,  my  brother,  who 
was  then  just  sixteen,  was  taken  in  charge  by  a  relative. 
I  never  heard  of  his  doing  anything  remarkable  dur- 
ing his  short  life.  As  the  irony  of  fate  would  have  it, 
he  died  suddenly  from  pneumonia,  just  before  the  Civil 
War." 

Bret  Harte  was  equally  precocious,  and  he  was  preco- 
cious even  in  respect  to  the  sense  of  humor,  which  com- 
monly requires  some  little  experience  for  its  development. 
It  is  a  family  tradition  that  he  burlesqued  the  rather  bald 
language  of  his  primer  at  the  age  of  five ;  and  his  sisters 
distinctly  remember  that,  a  year  later,  he  came  home 
from  a  school  exhibition,  and  made  them  scream  with 
laughter  by  mimicking  the  boy  who  spoke  "  My  name  is 
Norval."  He  was  naturally  a  very  quiet,  studious  child ; 


i6  LIFE   OF   BRET   HARTE 

and  this  tendency  was  increased  by  ill  health.  From  his 
sixth  to  his  tenth  year,  he  was  unable  to  lead  an  active 
life.  At  the  age  of  six  he  was  reading  Shakspere  and 
Froissart,  and  at  seven  he  took  up  "Dombey  and  Son," 
and  so  began  his  acquaintance  with  that  author  who  was 
to  influence  him  far  more  than  any  other.  From  Dickens 
he  proceeded  to  Fielding,  Goldsmith,  Smollett,  Cervan- 
tes, and  Washington  Irving.  During  an  illness  of  two 
months,  when  he  was  fourteen  years  old,  he  learned  to 
read  Greek  sufficiently  well  to  astonish  his  mother. 

If  the  Hart  family  resembled  the  Alcott  family  in  the 
matter  of  misfortunes  and  privations,  so  it  did,  also,  in 
its  intellectual  atmosphere.  Mrs.  Hart  shared  her  hus- 
band's passion  for  literature  ;  and  she  had  a  keen,  critical 
faculty,  to  which,  the  family  think,  Bret  Harte  was  much 
indebted  for  the  perfection  of  his  style.  Henry  Hart 
had  accumulated  a  library  surprisingly  large  for  a  man  of 
his  small  means,  and  the  whole  household  was  given  to 
the  reading  not  simply  of  books,  but  of  the  best  books, 
and  to  talking  about  them.  It  was  a  household  in  which 
the  literary  second-rate  was  unerringly,  and  somewhat 
scornfully,  discriminated  from  the  first-rate. 

When  Bret  Harte  was  only  eleven  years  old  he  wrote 
a  poem  called  Autumnal  Musings  which  he  sent  sur- 
reptitiously to  the  "  New  York  Sunday  Atlas,"  and  the 
poem  was  published  in  the  next  issue.  This  was  a  won- 
derful feat  for  a  boy  of  that  age,  and  he  was  naturally 
elated  by  seeing  his  verses  in  print ;  but  the  family  critics 
pointed  out  their  defects  with  such  unpleasant  frankness 
that  the  conceit  of  the  youthful  poet  was  nipped  in  the 
bud.  Many  years  afterward,  Bret  Harte  said  with  a  laugh, 
"  I  sometimes  wonder  that  I  ever  wrote  a  line  of  poetry 
again."  But  the  discipline  was  wholesome,  and  as  he 
grew  older  his  mother  took  his  literary  ambitions  more 
seriously.  When  he  was  about  sixteen,  he  wrote  a  long 
poem  called  The  Hudson  River.  It  was  never  published, 


BRET   HARTE'S   BOYHOOD  17 

but  Mrs.  Hart  made  a  careful  study  of  it ;  and  at  her 
son's  request,  wrote  out  her  criticisms  at  length. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  Bret  Harte,  as  an  author,  far 
from  being  an  academic,  was  strictly  a  home  product. 
He  left  school  at  the  age  of  thirteen  and  went  imme- 
diately into  a  lawyer's  office  where  he  remained  about  a 
year,  and  thence  into  the  counting-room  of  a  merchant. 
He  was  self-supporting  before  he  reached  the  age  of  six- 
teen. In  185 1,  as  has  already  been  mentioned,  his  older 
sister  was  married ;  and  in  1853  his  mother  went  to  Cali- 
fornia with  a  party  of  relatives  and  friends,  in  order  to 
make  her  home  there  with  her  elder  son,  Henry.  She 
had  intended  to  take  with  her  the  other  two  children, 
Margaret  and  Francis  Brett ;  but  as  the  daughter  was  in 
school,  she  left  the  two  behind  for  a  few  months,  and 
they  followed  in  February,  1854.  They  travelled  by  the 
Nicaragua  route,  and  after  a  long,  tiresome,  but  unevent- 
ful journey,  landed  safely  in  San  Francisco.^  No  mention 
of  their  arrival  was  made  in  the  newpapers ;  no  guns 
were  fired ;  no  band  played ;  but  the  youth  of  eighteen 
who  thus  slipped  unnoticed  into  California  was  the  one 
person,  out  of  the  many  thousands  arriving  in  those  early 
years,  whose  coming  was  a  fact  of  importance. 

1  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior  contains  some  reminiscences  of  the  voy- 
age. 


CHAPTER  III 

BRET  HARTE's   WANDERINGS   IN   CALIFORNIA 

Bret  Harte  and  his  sister  arrived  at  San  Francisco  in 
March,  1854,  stayed  there  one  night,  and  went  the  next 
morning  to  Oakland,  across  the  Bay,  where  their  mother 
and  her  second  husband.  Colonel  Andrew  Williams,  were 
living.  In  this  house  the  boy  remained  about  a  year, 
teaching  for  a  while,  and  afterward  serving  as  clerk  in 
an  apothecary's  shop.  During  this  year  he  began  his 
career  as  a  professional  writer,  contributing  some  stories 
and  poems  to  Eastern  magazines. 

Bret  Harte,  like  Thackeray,  was  fortunate  in  his  step- 
father, and  if,  according  to  the  accepted  story,  Thack- 
eray's stepfather  was  the  prototype  of  Colonel  Newcome, 
the  two  men  must  have  had  much  in  common.  Colonel 
Williams  was  born  at  Cherry  Valley  in  the  State  of  New 
York,  and  was  graduated  at  Union  College  with  the 
Class  of  18 19.  Henry  Hart's  class  was  that  of  1820, 
but  the  two  young  men  were  friends  in  college.  Colonel 
Williams  had  seen  much  of  the  world,  having  travelled 
extensively  in  Europe  early  in  the  century,  and  he  was  a 
cultivated,  well-read  man.  But  he  was  chiefly  remarkable 
for  his  high  standard  of  honor,  and  his  amiable,  chival- 
rous nature.  He  was  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school  in 
the  best  sense,  grave  but  sympathetic,  courtly  but  kind. 
His  generosity  was  unbounded.  Such  a  man  might  appear 
to  have  been  somewhat  out  of  place  in  bustling  Califor- 
nia, but  his  qualities  were  appreciated  there.  He  was 
the  first  Mayor  of  Oakland,  in  the  year  1857,  and  was  re- 
elected the  following  year.  Colonel  Williams  built  a  com- 
fortable house  in  Oakland,  one  of  the  first,  if  not  the 


WANDERINGS   IN   CALIFORNIA  19 

very  first  in  that  city  in  whicli  laths  and  plaster  were 
used ;  but  land  titles  in  California  were  extremely  uncer- 
tain, and  after  a  long  and  stubborn  contest  in  the  courts, 
Colonel  Williams  was  dispossessed,  and  lost  the  house 
upon  which  he  had  expended  much  time  and  money. 
He  then  took  up  his  residence  in  San  Francisco,  where 
he  lived  until  his  return  to  the  East  in  the  year  1871. 
His  wife,  Bret  Harte's  mother,  died  at  Morristown,  New 
Jersey,  April  4,  1875,  and  was  buried  in  the  family  lot  at 
Greenwood,  New  York.  The  following  year  he  went 
back  to  California  for  a  visit  to  Bret  Harte's  sister,  Mrs. 
Wyman,  but  soon  after  his  arrival  died  of  pneumonia  at 
the  age  of  seventy-six. 

The  San  Francisco  and  Oakland  papers  spoke  very 
highly  of  Colonel  Williams  after  his  death,  and  one  of 
them  closed  an  account  of  his  life  with  the  following 
words :  "  Colonel  Williams  had  that  indefinable  sweet- 
ness of  manner  which  indicates  innate  refinement  and 
nobility  of  soul.  There  was  a  touch  of  the  antique  about 
him.  He  seemed  a  little  out  of  time  and  place  in  this 
hurried  age  of  ours.  He  belonged  to  and  typified  the 
calmer  temper  of  a  former  generation.  A  gentler  spirit 
never  walked  the  earth.  He  personified  all  the  sweet 
charities  of  life.  His  heart  was  great,  warm  and  tender, 
and  he  died  leaving  no  man  in  the  world  his  enemy. 
Colonel  Williams  was  the  stepfather  of  Bret  Harte,  be- 
tween whom  and  himself  there  existed  the  most  affec- 
tionate relations." 

It  was  during  his  first  year  in  California  that  Bret 
Harte  had  that  gambling  experience  which  he  has  re- 
lated in  his  Bohemian  Days  in  San  FranciscOy  and  which 
throws  so  much  light  on  his  character  that  it  should  be 
quoted  here  in  part  at  least :  — 

"  I  was  watching  roulette  one  evening,  intensely  ab- 
sorbed in  the  mere  movement  of  the  players.  Either 
they  were  so  preoccupied  with  the  game,  or  I  was  really 


20  LIFE   OF   BRET  HARTE 

older  looking  than  my  actual  years,  but  a  bystander  laid 
his  hand  familiarly  on  my  shoulder,  and  said,  as  to  an 
ordinary  kabitu^,  '  Ef  you  're  not  chippin*  in  yourself, 
pardner,  s'pose  you  give  me  a  show.'  Now,  I  honestly 
believe  that  up  to  that  moment  I  had  no  intention,  nor 
even  a  desire,  to  try  my  own  fortune.  But  in  the  embar- 
rassment of  the  sudden  address  I  put  my  hand  in  my 
pocket,  drew  out  a  coin  and  laid  it,  with  an  attempt  at 
carelessness,  but  a  vivid  consciousness  that  I  was  blush- 
ing, upon  a  vacant  number.  To  my  horror  I  saw  that  I 
had  put  down  a  large  coin — the  bulk  of  my  possessions  ! 
I  did  not  flinch,  however ;  I  think  any  boy  who  reads 
this  will  understand  my  feeling ;  it  was  not  only  my  coin 
but  my  manhood  at  stake.  ...  I  even  affected  to  be 
listening  to  the  music.  The  wheel  spun  again  ;  the  game 
was  declared,  the  rake  was  busy,  but  I  did  not  move. 
At  last  the  man  I  had  displaced  touched  me  on  the  arm 
and  whispered,  *  Better  make  a  straddle  and  divide  your 
stake  this  time.'  I  did  not  understand  him,  but  as  I  saw 
he  was  looking  at  the  board,  I  was  obliged  to  look,  too. 
I  drew  back  dazed  and  bewildered !  Where  my  coin  had 
lain  a  moment  before  was  a  glittering  heap  of  gold. 

"...  *Make  your  game,  gentlemen,'  said  the  croupier 
monotonously.  I  thought  he  looked  at  me  —  indeed, 
everybody  seemed  to  be  looking  at  me  —  and  my  com- 
panion repeated  his  warning.  But  here  I  must  again  ap- 
peal to  the  boyish  reader  in  defence  of  my  idiotic  obsti- 
nacy. To  have  taken  advice  would  have  shown  my  youth. 
I  shook  my  head  —  I  could  not  trust  my  voice.  I  smiled, 
but  with  a  sinking  heart,  and  let  my  stake  remain.  The 
ball  again  sped  round  the  wheel,  and  stopped.  There 
was  a  pause.  The  croupier  indolently  advanced  his  rake 
and  swept  my  whole  pile  with  others  into  the  bank !  I 
had  lost  it  all.  Perhaps  it  may  be  difficult  for  me  to 
explain  why  I  actually  felt  relieved,  and  even  to  some 
extent  triumphant,  but  I  seemed  to  have  asserted  my 


WANDERINGS   IN   CALIFORNIA  21 

grown-up  independence  —  possibly  at  the  cost  of  reduc- 
ing the  number  of  my  meals  for  days  ;  but  what  of  that ! 
.  .  .  The  man  who  had  spoken  to  me,  I  think,  sud- 
denly realized,  at  the  moment  of  my  disastrous  coup,  the 
fact  of  my  extreme  youth.  He  moved  toward  the  banker, 
and  leaning  over  him  whispered  a  few  words.  The 
banker  looked  up,  half  impatiently,  half  kindly,  —  his 
hand  straying  tentatively  toward  the  pile  of  coin.  I  in- 
stinctively knew  what  he  meant,  and,  summoning  my 
determination,  met  his  eyes  with  all  the  indifference  I 
could  assume,  and  walked  away." 

In  1856,  being  then  twenty  years  old,  young  Harteleft 
Colonel  Williams's  house,  and  thenceforth  shifted  for 
himself.  His  first  engagement  was  as  tutor  in  a  private 
family  at  Alamo  in  the  San  Ramon  Valley.  There  were 
several  sons  in  the  family,  and  one  or  two  of  them  were 
older  than  their  tutor.  The  next  year  he  went  to  Hum- 
boldt Bay  in  Humboldt  County,  on  the  upper  coast  of 
California,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  north  of 
San  Francisco.  Thence  he  made  numerous  trips  as  ex- 
press messenger  on  stages  running  eastward  to  Trinity 
County,  and  northward  to  Del  Norte,  which,  as  the  name 
implies,  is  the  extreme  upper  county  in  the  State.  The 
experience  was  a  valuable  one,  and  it  was  concerning 
this  period  of  Bret  Harte's  career  that  his  friend,  Charles 
Warren  Stoddard,  wrote:  "He  bore  a  charmed  life. 
Probably  his  youth  was  his  salvation,  for  he  ran  a  thou- 
sand risks,  yet  seemed  only  to  gain  in  health  and  spirits." 

The  post  of  express  messenger  was  especially  danger- 
ous. Bret  Harte's  predecessor  was  shot  through  the 
arm  by  a  highwayman ;  his  successor  was  killed.  The 
safe  containing  the  treasure  carried  by  Wells,  Fargo  and 
Company,  who  did  practically  all  the  express  business  in 
California,  was  always  heavily  chained  to  the  box  of  the 
coach,  and  sometimes,  when  a  particularly  large  amount 
of  gold  had  to  be  conveyed,  armed  guards  were  carried 


as  LIFE   OF   BRET   HARTE 

inside  of  the  coach.  For  the  stage  to  be  "held  up"  by 
highwaymen  was  a  common  occurrence,  and  the  danger 
from  breakdowns  and  floods  was  not  small.  In  the  course 
of  a  few  months  between  the  towns  of  Visalia  and  Kern 
River  the  overland  stage  broke  the  legs  of  three  several 
drivers.  It  was  a  frequent  thing  for  the  stage  to  cross  a 
stream,  suddenly  become  a  river,  with  the  horses  swim- 
ming, a  strong  current  running  through  the  coach  itself, 
and  the  passengers  perched  on  the  seats  to  escape  being 
swept  away.^ 

With  these  dangers  of  flood  and  field  to  encounter, 
with  precipices  to  skirt,  with  six  half-broken  horses  to 
control,  and  with  the  ever-present  possibility  of  serv- 
ing as  a  target  for  "road-agents,"  it  may  be  imagined 
that  the  California  stage-driver  was  no  common  man, 
and  the  type  is  preserved  in  the  character  of  Yuba  Bill. 
He  can  be  compared  only  with  Colonel  Starbottle  and 
Jack  HamHn,  and  Jack  Hamlin  was  one  of  the  few  men 
whom  Yuba  Bill  condescended  to  treat  as  an  equal. 
Their  meeting  in  Gabriel  Convoy  is  historic:  "'Bar- 
keep  —  hist  that  pizen  over  to  Jack.  Here 's  to  ye  agin, 
ole  man.  But  I  'm  glad  to  see  ye ! '  The  crowd  hung 
breathless  over  the  two  men  —  awestruck  and  respectful. 
It  was  a  meeting  of  the  gods.  None  dared  speak." 

"Yuba  Bill,"  writes  Mr.  Chesterton,  "is  not  conviv- 
ial ;  it  might  almost  be  said  that  he  is  too  great  even  to 
be  sociable.   A  circle  of  quiescence  and  solitude,  such 

1  The  following  account  of  a  ride  in  a  California  stage  is  given  by 
Borthwick  :  "  All  sense  of  danger  was  lost  in  admiration  of  the  coolness 
and  dexterity  of  the  driver  as  he  circumvented  every  obstacle  without 
going  one  inch  farther  out  of  his  way  than  was  necessary  to  save  us  from 
perdition.  With  his  right  foot  he  managed  a  brake,  and,  clawing  at  the 
reins  with  both  hands,  he  swayed  his  body  from  side  to  side,  to  preserve 
his  equilibrium,  as  now  on  the  right  pair  of  wheels,  now  on  the  left,  he 
cut  the  outside  edge  round  a  stump  or  a  rock ;  and  when  coming  to  a  spot 
where  he  was  going  to  execute  a  difficult  manoeuvre  on  a  slanting  piece 
of  ground,  he  trimmed  the  wagon,  as  we  would  a  small  boat  in  a  squall, 
aod  made  us  all  crowd  up  to  the  weather  side  to  prevent  a  capsize." 


WANDERINGS   IN   CALIFORNIA  23 

as  that  which  might  ring  a  saint  or  a  hermit,  rings  this 
majestic  and  profound  humorist.  His  jokes  do  not  flow 
from  him,  like  those  of  Mr.  Weller,  sparkling  and  contin- 
ual like  the  play  of  a  fountain  in  a  pleasure  garden ;  they 
fall  suddenly  and  capriciously,  like  a  crash  of  avalanche 
from  a  great  mountain.  Tony  Weller  has  the  noisy  humor 
of  London.  Yuba  Bill  has  the  silent  humor  of  the  earth." 
Then  the  critic  quotes  Yuba  Bill's  rebuke  to  the  passen- 
ger who  has  expressed  a  too-confident  opinion  as  to  the 
absence  of  the  expected  highwaymen  :  "  *  You  ain't  put- 
tin'  any  price  on  that  opinion,  air  ye .? '  inquired  Bill  po- 
litely. 

"^No.' 

"  *  Cos  thar  's  a  comic  paper  in  'Frisco  pays  for  them 
things,  and  I  've  seen  worse  things  in  it.'  " 

Even  better,  perhaps,  is  Yuba  Bill's  reply  to  Judge 
Beeswinger,  who  rashly  betrayed  some  over-conscious- 
ness of  his  importance  as  a  member  of  the  State  As- 
sembly. "  *  Any  political  news  from  below.  Bill  ? '  he 
asked,  as  the  latter  slowly  descended  from  his  lofty  perch, 
without,  however,  any  perceptible  coming  down  of  mien 
or  manner.  *  Not  much,'  said  Bill,  with  deliberate  gravity. 
*The  President  o'  the  United  States  hez  n't  bin  hisself 
sens  you  refoosed  that  seat  in  the  Cabinet.  The  gin'ral 
feelin'  in  perlitical  circles  is  one  o'  regret.'*' 

"To  be  rebuked  thus,"  Mr.  Chesterton  continues, 
**  is  like  being  rebuked  by  the  pyramids  or  by  the  starry 
heavens.  There  is  about  Yuba  Bill  this  air  of  a  pugna- 
cious calm,  a  stepping  back  to  get  his  distance  for  a  shat- 
tering blow,  which  is  like  that  of  Dr.  Johnson  at  his  best. 
And  the  effect  is  inexpressibly  increased  by  the  back- 
ground and  the  whole  picture  which  Bret  Harte  paints 
so  powerfully,  —  the  stormy  skies,  the  sombre  gorge,  the 
rocking  and  spinning  coach,  and  high  above  the  feverish 
passengers  the  huge,  dark  form  of  Yuba  Bill,  a  silent 
mountain  of  humor." 


24  LIFE   OF   BRET   HARTE 

After  his  service  as  expressman,  Bret  Harte  went  to 
a  town  called  Union,  about  three  hundred  miles  north  of 
San  Francisco,  where  he  learned  the  printer's  trade  in 
the  office  of  the  "  Humboldt  Times."  He  also  taught 
school  again  in  Union,  and  for  the  second  time  acted  as 
clerk  in  a  drug  store.  Speaking  of  his  experience  in  this 
capacity,  Mr.  Pemberton,  his  English  biographer,  gravely 
says,  "I  have  heard  English  physicians  express  wonder  at 
his  grasp  of  the  subject."  One  wonders,  in  turn,  if  Bret 
Harte  did  not  do  a  little  hoaxing  in  this  line.  "To  the 
end  of  his  days,"  writes  Mr.  Pemberton,  "  he  could  speak 
with  authority  as  to  the  virtues  and  properties  of  medi- 
cines." Young  Harte  had  a  wonderful  faculty  of  picking 
up  information,  and  no  doubt  his  two  short  terms  of  serv- 
ice as  a  compounder  of  medicines  were  not  thrown  away 
upon  him.  But  Bret  Harte  was  the  last  person  in  the 
world  to  pose  as  an  expert,  and  it  seems  probable  that 
the  extent  of  his  knowledge  was  fairly  described  in  the 
story  How  Reuben  Allen  Saw  Life  in  San  Francisco.  That 
part  of  this  story  which  deals  with  the  drug  clerk  is  so 
plainly  autobiographical,  and  so  characteristic  of  the  au- 
thor, that  a  quotation  from  it  will  not  be  out  of  place :  — 

"  It  was  near  midnight,  the  hour  of  closing,  and  the 
junior  partner  was  alone  in  the  shop.  He  felt  drowsy; 
the  mysterious  incense  of  the  shop,  that  combined  es- 
sence of  drugs,  spice,  scented  soap,  and  orris  root — 
which  always  reminded  him  of  the  Arabian  nights  — 
was  affecting  him.  He  yawned,  and  then,  turning  away, 
passed  behind  the  counter,  took  down  a  jar  labelled 
*  Glycyrr.  Glabra,*  selected  a  piece  of  Spanish  licorice, 
and  meditatively  sucked  it.  .  .  . 

"  He  was  just  nineteen,  he  had  early  joined  the  emigra- 
tion to  California,  and  after  one  or  two  previous  light- 
hearted  essays  at  other  occupations,  for  which  he  was  sin- 
gularly unfitted,  he  had  saved  enough  to  embark  on  his 
present  venture,  still  less  suited  to  his  temperament.  .  .  . 


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WANDERINGS   IN   CALIFORNIA  25 

A  slight  knowledge  of  Latin  as  a  written  language,  an 
American  schoolboy's  acquaintance  with  chemistry  and 
natural  philosophy,  were  deemed  sufficient  by  his  partner, 
a  regular  physician,  for  practical  cooperation  in  the  vend- 
ing of  drugs  and  putting  up  of  prescriptions.  He  knew  the 
difference  between  acids  and  alkalis  and  the  peculiar  re- 
sults which  attended  their  incautious  combination.  But 
he  was  excessively  deliberate,  painstaking  and  cautious. 
There  was  no  danger  of  his  poisoning  anybody  through 
haste  or  carelessness,  but  it  was  possible  that  an  urgent 
*case'  might  have  succumbed  to  the  disease  while  he  was 
putting  up  the  remedy.  ...  In  those  days  the  *  heroic ' 
practice  of  medicine  was  in  keeping  with  the  abnormal 
development  of  the  country ;  there  were  *  record '  doses  of 
calomel  and  quinine,  and  he  had  once  or  twice  incurred 
the  fury  of  local  practitioners  by  sending  back  their  pre- 
scriptions with  a  modest  query." 

It  was  doubtless  Bret  Harte's  experience  in  the  drug 
store  which  suggested  the  story  of  Liberty  Jones,  whose 
discovery  of  an  arsenical  spring  in  the  forest  was  the 
means  of  transforming  that  well-made,  but  bony  and  sal- 
low Missouri  girl  into  a  beautiful  woman,  with  well- 
rounded  limbs,  rosy  cheeks,  lustrous  eyes  and  glossy 
hair. 

It  has  been  a  matter  of  some  discussion  whether  Bret 
Harte  ever  worked  as  a  miner  or  not ;  and  the  evidence 
upon  the  point  is  not  conclusive.  But  it  is  hard  to  believe 
that  he  did  not  try  his  luck  at  gold-seeking,  when  every- 
body else  was  trying,  and  his  narrative  How  I  Went  to 
the  Mines  seems  to  have  the  ear-marks  of  an  autobio- 
graphical sketch.  It  is  regarded  as  such  by  his  sisters ; 
and  the  modest,  deprecating  manner  in  which  the  story- 
teller's adventures  are  related,  serves  to  confirm  that 
impression. 

Of  all  his  experiences  in  California,  those  which  gave 
him  the  most  pleasure  seem  to  have  been  his  several 


26  LIFE   OF   BRET   HARTE 

short  but  fruitful  terms  of  service  as  schoolmaster  and 
tutor.  His  knowledge  of  children,  being  based  upon 
sympathy,  became  both  acute  and  profound.  How  many 
thousand  million  times  have  children  gone  to  school  of  a 
morning  and  found  the  master  awaiting  them,  and  yet 
who  but  Bret  Harte  has  ever  described  the  exact  man- 
ner of  their  approach ! 

**They  came  in  their  usual  desultory  fashion  —  the 
fashion  of  country  school-children  the  world  over  —  ir- 
regularly, spasmodically,  and  always  as  if  accidentally;  a 
few  hand-in-hand,  others  driven  ahead  of  or  dragged  be- 
hind their  elders  ;  some  in  straggling  groups  more  or  less 
coherent  and  at  times  only  connected  by  far-off  inter- 
mediate voices  scattered  over  a  space  of  half  a  mile,  but 
never  quite  alone ;  always  preoccupied  by  something  else 
than  the  actual  business  in  hand;  appearing  suddenly 
from  ditches,  behind  trunks,  and  between  fence-rails; 
cropping  up  in  unexpected  placets  along  the  road  after 
vague  and  purposeless  detours  —  seemingly  going  any- 
where and  everywhere  but  to  school!  "^ 

Bret  Harte  realized  the  essential  truth  that  children  are 
not  little,  immature  men  and  women,  but  rather  infantile 
barbarians,  creatures  of  an  archaic  type,  representing  a 
period  in  the  development  of  the  human  race  which  does 
not  survive  in  adult  life.  Hence  the  reserve,  the  aloof- 
ness of  children,  their  remoteness  from  grown  people. 
There  are  certain  things  which  the  boy  most  deeply 
feels  that  he  must  not  do,  and  certain  other  things  that 
he  must  do  ;  as,  for  example,  to  bear  without  telling  any 
pains  that  may  be  inflicted  upon  him  by  his  mates  or 
by  older  boys.  For  a  thousand  years  or  more  fathers 
and  mothers  have  held  a  different  code  upon  these  points, 
but  with  how  little  effect  upon  their  children!  Johnny 
Filgee  illustrated  upon  a  truly  Californian  scale  these 
boyish  qualities  of  reticence  and  endurance.  When  he 

1  Cressy.  The  paragraph  quoted  is  only  a  part  of  the  description. 


WANDERINGS   IN   CALIFORNIA  27 

had  accidentally  been  shot  in  the  duel  between  the  Master 
and  Cressy's  father  (the  child  being  perched  in  a  tree), 
he  refrained  from  making  the  least  sound,  although  a 
word  or  an  outcry  would  have  brought  the  men  to  his 
assistance.  "A  certain  respect  to  himself  and  his  brother 
kept  him  from  uttering  even  a  whimper  of  weakness." 
Left  alone  in  the  dark  woods,  unable  to  move,  Johnny 
became  convinced  that  his  end  was  near,  and  he  pleased 
himself  by  thinking  that  "they  would  all  feel  exceedingly 
sorry  and  alarmed,  and  would  regret  having  made  him 
wash  himself  on  Saturday  night."  And  so,  having  com- 
posed himself,  **  he  turned  on  his  side  to  die,  as  became 
the  scion  of  an  heroic  race !" 

Then  follows  a  sentence  in  which  the  artist,  with  one 
bold  sweep  of  his  brush,  paints  in  Nature  herself  as  a 
witness  of  the  scene ;  and  yet  her  material  immensity 
does  not  dwarf  or  belittle  the  spiritual  superiority  of  the 
wounded  youngster  in  the  foreground :  **The  free  woods, 
touched  by  an  upspringing  wind,  waved  their  dark  arms 
above  him,  and  higher  yet  a  few  patient  stars  silently 
ranged  themselves  around  his  pillow." 

That  other  Johnny,  for  whom  Santa  Claus  Came  to 
Simpsons  Bar,  Richelieu  Sharpe  in  A  Phyllis  of  the  Sier- 
rasy  John  Milton  Harcourt  in  the  First  Family  of  Tasa- 
jaray  Leonidas  Boone,  the  Mercury  of  the  Foot-Hillsy  and 
John  Bunyan  Medliker,  the  Youngest  Prospector  in  Cala- 
veras^ —  all  illustrate  the  same  type,  with  many  individual 
variations. 

Another  phase  of  the  archaic  nature  of  children  is 
their  extreme  sensitiveness  to  impressions.  Just  as  a 
squirrel  hears  more  acutely  than  a  man,  and  the  dog's 
sense  of  smell  is  keener,  so  a  child,  within  the  compara- 
tively small  range  of  his  mental  activity,  is  more  open 
to  subtle  indications.  Bret  Harte  often  touches  upon  this 
quality  of  childhood,  as  in  the  following  passage:  "It 
was  not  strange,  therefore,  that  the  little  people  of  the 


28  LIFE   OF   BRET   HARTE 

Indian  Spring  School  knew  perhaps  more  of  the  real  re- 
lations of  Cressy  McKinstry  to  her  admirers  than  the 
admirers  themselves.  Not  that  the  knowledge  was  out- 
spoken— for  children  rarely  gossip  in  the  grown-up 
sense,  or  even  communicate  by  words  intelligent  to  the 
matured  intellect.  A  whisper,  a  laugh  that  often  seemed 
vague  and  unmeaning,  conveyed  to  each  other  a  world  of 
secret  significance,  and  an  apparently  senseless  burst  of 
merriment  in  which  the  whole  class  joined — and  that 
the  adult  critic  set  down  to  *  animal  spirits  * —  a  quality 
much  more  rare  with  children  than  is  generally  supposed 
—  was  only  a  sympathetic  expression  of  some  discovery 
happily  oblivious  to  older  perceptions." 

This  acuteness  of  perception,  seen  also  in  some  men 
of  a  simple,  archaic  type,  puts  children  in  close  relation- 
ship with  the  lower  animals,  unless,  indeed,  it  is  counter- 
acted by  that  cruelty  which  is  also  a  quality  of  child- 
hood. When  Richelieu  Sharpe  retired  to  rest,  it  was  i-n 
company  with  a  whole  retinue  of  dependents.  "  On  the 
pillow  near  him  an  indistinguishable  mass  of  golden 
fur  —  the  helpless  bulk  of  a  squirrel  chained  to  the  leg 
of  his  cot ;  at  his  feet  a  wall-eyed  cat,  who  had  followed 
his  tyrannous  caprices  with  the  long-suffering  devotion 
of  her  sex ;  on  the  shelf  above  him  a  loathsome  collec- 
tion of  flies  and  tarantulas  in  dull  green  bottles,  a  slab 
of  gingerbread  for  light  nocturnal  refreshment,  and  his 
sister's  pot  of  bear's  grease.  .  .  .  The  sleeper  stirred 
slightly  and  awoke.  At  the  same  moment,  by  some  mys- 
terious sympathy,  a  pair  of  beady  bright  eyes  appeared 
in  the  bulk  of  fur  near  his  curls,  the  cat  stretched  her- 
self, and  even  a  vague  agitation  was  heard  in  the  bottles 
on  the  shelf."  ^ 

That  last  touch,  intimating  some  community  of  feeling 
between  Richelieu  and  his  insects,  is,  as  the  Reader  will 
grant,  the  touch  of  genius.  Bridging  the  gulf  impassable 

1  A  Phyllis  of  the  Sierras, 


WANDERINGS   IN   CALIFORNIA  29 

for  an  ordinary  mind,  it  assumes  a  fact  which,  like  the 
shape  of  Donatello's  ears,  is  true  to  the  imagination,  and 
not  so  manifestly  impossible  as  to  shock  the  reason. 

It  is  sometimes  said  that  California  in  the  Fifties  re- 
presented the  American  character  in  its  most  extreme 
form,  —  the  quintessence,  as  it  were,  of  energy  and  de- 
mocracy. This  statement  would  certainly  apply  to  the 
California  children,  in  whom  the  ordinary  forwardness  of 
the  American  child  became  a  sort  of  elfish  precocity. 
Such  a  boy  was  Richelieu  Sharpe.  His  gallantries,  his 
independence,  his  self-reliance,  his  adult  ambitions, — 
these  qualities,  oddly  assorted  with  the  primeval,  imagin- 
ative nature  of  the  true  child,  made  Richelieu  such  a 
youngster  as  was  never  seen  outside  of  the  United 
States,  and  perhaps  never  seen  outside  of  California. 

The  English  child  of  the  upper  classes,  as  Bret  Harte 
knew  him  in  after  years,  made  a  strange  contrast  to  the 
Richelieu  Sharpes  and  John  Bunyan  Medlikers  that  he  had 
learned  to  love  in  California.  In  a  letter  to  his  wife  writ- 
ten from  the  house  of  James  Anthony  Froude,  in  1878, 
he  said:  "The  eldest  girl  is  not  unlike  a  highly-educated 
Boston  girl,  and  the  conversation  sometimes  reminds  me 
of  Boston.  The  youngest  daughter,  only  ten  years  old,  told 
her  sister,  in  reference  to  some  conversation  Froude 
and  I  had,  that  *she  feared'  (this child)  <that  Mr.  Bret 
Harte  was  inclined  to  be  sceptical ! '  Does  n't  this  exceed 
any  English  story  of  the  precocity  of  American  children } 
The  boy,  scarcely  fourteen,  acts  like  a  boy  of  eight  (an 
American  boy  of  eight)  and  talks  like  a  man  of  thirty, 
so  far  as  pure  English  and  facility  of  expression  go.  His 
manners  are  perfect,  yet  he  is  perfectly  simple  and  boy- 
like. The  culture  and  breeding  of  some  English  children 
are  really  marvellous.  But  somehow  —  and  here  comes 
one  of  my  *  buts  '  —  there 's  always  a  suggestion  of  some 
repression,  some  discipline  that  I  don't  like."  ^ 
1  Pemberton's  **  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  102. 


so  LIFE   OF   BRET  HARTE 

Bret  Harte's  last  employment  during  this  wandering 
life  was  that  of  compositor,  printer's  devil,  and  assistant 
editor  of  the  "  Northern  California,"  published  at  Eureka, 
a  seacoast  town  in  Humboldt  County.  Here  he  met  Mr. 
Charles  A.  Murdock,  who  gives  this  interesting  account 
of  him  :  "  He  was  fond  of  whist,  genial,  witty,  but  quiet 
and  reserved,  something  of  a  *  tease'  "  (the  Reader  will 
remember  that  Mr.  Howells  speaks  of  this  trait)  "  and  a 
practical  joker ;  not  especially  popular,  as  he  was  thought 
to  be  fastidious,  and  to  hold  himself  aloof  from  '  the  gen- 
eral' ;  but  he  was  simply  a  self-respecting,  gentlemanly 
fellow,  with  quiet  tastes,  and  a  keen  insight  into  charac- 
ter. He  was  no  roisterer,  and  his  habits  were  clean.  He 
was  too  independent  and  indifferent  to  curry  favor,  or  to 
counterfeit  a  liking." 

During  a  temporary  absence  of  the  editor  Bret  Harte 
was  entrusted  with  the  conduct  of  the  paper,  and 
about  that  time  a  cowardly  massacre  of  Indians  was  per- 
petrated by  some  Americans  in  the  vicinity.  This  was 
no  uncommon  event,  and  the  usual  attitude  of  the  Pi- 
oneers toward  the  Indians  may  be  gathered  from  the 
following  passage  in  a  letter  written  to  a  newspaper  in 
August,  185 1,  from  Rogue  River:  "During  this  period 
we  have  been  searching  about  in  the  mountains,  disturbing 
villages,  destroying  all  the  males  we  could  find,  and  cap- 
turing women  and  children.  We  have  killed  about  thirty 
altogether,  and  have  about  twenty-eight  now  in  camp." 
At  the  Stanislaus  Diggings,  in  185 1,  a  miner  called  to 
an  Indian  boy  to  help  him  catch  a  loose  horse.  The  boy, 
not  understanding  English,  and  being  frightened  by  the 
man's  gestures,  ran  away,  whereupon  the  miner  raised  his 
gun  and  shot  the  boy  dead. 

Nobody  hated  injustice  or  cruelty  more  than  Bret 
Harte,  and  in  his  editorial  capacity  he  scathingly  con- 
demned the  murder  of  Indians  which  occurred  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Eureka.  The  article  excited  the  anger 


WANDERINGS  IN   CALIFORNIA  31 

of  the  community,  and  a  mob  was  collected  for  the  avowed 
purpose  of  wrecking  the  newspaper  office  and  hanging  or 
otherwise  maltreating  the  youthful  writer.  Bret  Harte, 
armed  with  two  pistols,  awaited  their  coming  during  an 
evening  which  was  probably  the  longest  of  his  life.  But 
the  timely  arrival  of  a  few  United  States  cavalrymen,  sent 
for  by  some  peace-lovers  in  the  town,  averted  the  danger ; 
and  the  young  journalist  suffered  no  harm  beyond  an 
abrupt  dismissal  upon  the  hasty  return  of  the  editor. 

This  event  ended  his  life  as  a  wanderer,  and  he  went 
back  to  San  Francisco.  There  is  not  the  slightest  reason 
to  think  that  during  this  period  Bret  Harte  had  any  no- 
tion of  describing  California  life  in  fiction  or  otherwise  ; 
and  yet,  if  that  had  been  his  object,  he  could  not  have 
ordered  his  movements  more  wisely.  He  had  lived  on 
the  seacoast  and  in  the  interior;  he  had  seen  cities, 
ranches,  villages,  and  mines;  he  had  been  tutor,  school- 
teacher, drug  clerk,  express  messenger,  printer,  and  edi- 
tor. The  period  was  less  than  two  years,  and  yet  he  had 
accumulated  a  store  of  facts,  impressions  and  images 
sufficient  to  last  him  a  lifetime.  He  was  of  a  most  recep- 
tive nature ;  he  was  at  a  receptive  age ;  the  world  was 
new  to  him,  and  he  lived  in  it  and  observed  it  with  all 
the  zest  of  youth,  of  inexperience,  of  health  and  genius. 


CHAPTER  IV 

BRET   HARTE   IN   SAN   FRANCISCO 

Bret  Harte  returned  to  San  Francisco  in  1857,  and  his 
first  occupation  was  that  of  setting  type  in  the  office  of 
the  "  Golden  Era."  To  this  paper  his  sister,  Mrs.  Wy- 
man,  had  been  a  contributor  for  some  time,  and  it  was 
through  her  that  Bret  Harte  obtained  employment  on  it 
as  a  printer. 

The  "  Golden  Era "  had  been  established  by  young 
men.  "It  was,"  writes  Mr.  Stoddard,  "the  cradle  and 
the  grave  of  many  a  high  hope.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
compared  with  it  on  that  side  of  the  Mississippi ;  and 
though  it  could  point  with  pride  —  it  never  failed  to  do 
so  —  to  a  somewhat  notable  list  of  contributors,  it  had 
always  the  fine  air  of  the  amateur,  and  was  most  compla- 
cently patronizing.  The  very  pattern  of  paternal  patron- 
age was  amiable  Joe  Lawrence,  its  Editor.  He  was  an 
inveterate  pipe-smoker,  a  pillar  of  cloud,  as  he  sat  in  his 
editorial  chair,  an  air  of  literary  mystery  enveloping  him. 
He  spoke  as  an  oracle,  and  I  remember  his  calling  my 
attention  to  a  certain  anonymous  contribution  just  re- 
ceived, and  nodding  his  head  prophetically,  for  he  already 
had  his  eye  on  the  fledgling  author,  a  young  compositor 
on  the  floor  above.  It  was  Bret  Harte's  first  appearance 
in  the  *  Golden  Era,'  and  doubtless  Lawrence  encour- 
aged him  as  he  had  encouraged  me  when,  out  of  the  mist 
about  him,  he  handed  me  secretly,  and  with  a  glance  of 
caution  —  for  his  business  partner,  the  marble-hearted, 
sat  at  his  ledger  not  far  away — he  handed  me  a  folded 
paper  on  which  he  had  written  this  startling  legend! 
'Write  some  prose  for  the  "Golden  Era,"  and  I  will 
give  you  a  dollar  a  column.' " 


BRET   HARTE   IN  i86l 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO  33 

It  was  not  long  before  Bret  Harte  was  promoted  from 
the  compositor's  stand  to  the  editorial  room  of  the  paper, 
and  thus  began  his  literary  career.  Among  the  sketches 
which  he  wrote  a  few  years  later,  and  which  have  been 
preserved  in  the  complete  edition  of  his  works,  are  In  a 
Balcony y  A  Boys  Dog,  and  Sidewalkings.  Except  for  a 
slight  restraint  and  stiffness  of  style,  as  if  the  author  had 
not  quite  attained  the  full  use  of  his  wings,  they  show 
no  indications  of  youth  or  crudity.  M'liss  also  appeared 
in  the  "  Golden  Era,"  illustrated  by  a  specially  designed 
woodcut ;  and  some  persons  think  that  this,  the  first,  is 
also  the  best  of  Bret  Harte's  stories.  At  all  events,  the 
early  M'liss  is  far  superior  to  the  author's  lengthened 
and  rewritten  M'liss  which  was  included  in  the  collected 
edition  of  his  works. 

When  it  is  added  that  the  Condensed  Novels,  or  at  least 
the  first  of  them,  were  also  published  in  the  "  Golden 
Era,"  it  will  be  seen  with  what  astonishing  quickness  his 
literary  style  matured.  He  wrote  at  first  anonymously ; 
afterward,  gaining  a  little  self-confidence,  he  signed  his 
stories  "B,"  and  then  "Bret." 

It  was  while  engaged  in  writing  for  the  "Golden 
Era,"  namely,  on  August  11,  1862,  that  Bret  Harte  was 
married  to  Miss  Anna  Griswold,  daughter  of  Daniel  S. 
and  Mary  Dunham  Griswold  of  the  city  of  New  York. 
The  marriage  took  place  at  San  Raphael. 

In  1864  he  was  appointed  Secretary  of  the  flalifornia  , 
Mint,  an  office  which  he  held  for  six  years  and  until  \ 
he  left  California.  For  this  position  he  was  indebted  to 
Mr.  R.  B.  Swain,  Superintendent  of  the  Mint,  a  friend 
and  parishioner  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  King,  who  in  that 
way  became  a  friend  of  Bret  Harte.  Mr.  Swain  had  a 
great  liking  for  the  young  author,  and  made  the  official 
path  easy  for  him.  In  fact,  the  position  seems  to  have 
been  one  of  those  sinecures  —  or  nearly  that  —  which 
are  the  traditional  reward  of  men  of  letters,  but  which 


34  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

a  reforming  and  materialistic  age  has  diverted  to  less 
noble  uses. 

In  San  Francisco,  both  before  and  after  his  marriage, 
Bret  Harte  lived  a  quiet,  studious  life,  going  very  little 
into  society.  Of  the  time  during  which  he  was  Secretary 
of  the  Mint,  Mr.  Stoddard  writes  :  "  He  was  now  a  man 
with  a  family ;  the  resources  derived  from  literature  were 
uncertain  and  unsatisfactory.  His  influential  friends  paid 
him  cheering  visits  in  the  gloomy  office  at  the  Mint 
where  he  leavened  his  daily  loaves ;  and  at  his  desk,  be- 
tween the  exacting  pages  of  the  too  literal  ledger,  many 
a  couplet  cropped  out,  and  the  outlines  of  now  famous 
sketches  were  faintly  limned.  His  friends  were  few,  but 
notable.  Society  he  ignored  in  those  days.  He  used  to 
accuse  me  of  wasting  my  substance  in  riotous  visitations, 
and  thought  me  a  spendthrift  of  time.  He  had  the  pre- 
cious companionship  of  books,  and  the  lives  of  those 
about  him  were  as  an  open  volume  wherein  he  read 
*  curiously  and  to  his  profit.'  " 

Of  the  notable  friends  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Stoddard,  the 
most  important  were  the  Reverend  Thomas  Starr  King, 
and  Mrs.  Jessie  Benton  Fremont,  daughter  of  Senator 
Benton,  and  wife  of  that  Captain,  afterward  General 
Fremont,  who  became  the  first  United  States  Senator 
from  California,  and  Republican  candidate  for  the  Pre- 
sidency in  1856,  but  who  is  best  known  as  The  Path- 
finder. His  adventures  and  narratives  form  an  important 
part  of  California  history. 

Mrs.  Fremont  was  an  extremely  clever,  kind-hearted 
woman,  who  assisted  Bret  Harte  greatly  by  her  advice 
and  criticism,  still  more  by  her  sympathy  and  encour- 
agement. Bret  Harte  was  always  inclined  to  underrate 
his  own  powers,  and  to  be  despondent  as  to  his  literary 
future.  On  one  occasion  when,  as  not  seldom  happened, 
he  was  cast  down  by  his  troubles  and  anxieties,  and 
almost  in  despair  as  to  his  prospects,  Mrs.  Fremont 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO     35 

sent  him  some  cheering  news,  and  he  wrote  to  her: 
"I  shall  no  longer  disquiet  myself  about  changes  in 
residence  or  anything  else,  for  I  believe  that  if  I  were 
cast  upon  a  desolate  island,  a  savage  would  come  to  me 
next  morning  and  hand  me  a  three-cornered  note  to  say 
that  I  had  been  appointed  Governor  at  Mrs.  Fremont's 
request,  at  a  salary  of  $2400  a  year." 

How  much  twenty-four  hundred  a  year  seemed  to  him 
then,  and  how  little  a  few  years  later !  A  Pioneer  who 
knew  them  both  writes :  "  Mrs.  Fremont  helped  Bret 
Harte  in  many  ways.  In  turn  he  marvelled  at  her  worldly 
wisdom, — being  able  to  tell  one  how  to  make  a  living. 
He  named  her  daughter's  pony  'Chiquita,*  after  the 
equine  heroine  of  his  poem."  It  was  by  Mrs.  Fremont's 
intervention  that  Bret  Harte  first  appeared  in  the  "  At- 
lantic Monthly,"  for,  some  years  before  he  achieved 
fame,  namely  in  1863,  The  Legend  of  Monte  del  Diablo 
was  published  in  that  magazine.  The  story  was  grace- 
fully, even  beautifully  written,  but  both  in  style  and 
treatment  it  was  a  reflection  of  Washington  Irving,  who 
at  that  time  rivalled  Dickens  as  a  popular  author. 

Many  interesting  letters  were  received  by  Mrs.  Fre- 
mont from  Bret  Harte, — letters,  her  daughter  thinks,  al- 
most as  entertaining  as  his  published  writings  ;  but  un- 
fortunately these  treasures  were  destroyed  by  a  fire  in  the 
city  of  New  York. 

Starr  King,  Bret  Harte' s  other  friend,  was  by  far  the 
most  notable  of  the  Protestant  ministers  in  California. 
The  son  of  a  Universalist  minister,  he  was  born  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  but  was  brought  up  mainly  in  Charles- 
town,  now  a  part  of  Boston.  Upon  leaving  school  he  be- 
came first  a  clerk,  then  a  school-teacher,  and  finally  a 
Unitarian  minister,  preaching  first  at  his  father's  old 
church  in  Charlestown,  and  afterward  at  the  Hollis 
Street  Unitarian  Church  in  Boston.  He  obtained  a  wide 
reputation  as  preacher  and  lecturer,  and  as  author  of 


36  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

"  The  White  Hills,"  still  the  best  book  upon  the  moun- 
tains of  New  England.  In  i860,  at  the  very  time  when 
his  services  were  needed  there,  he  became  the  pastor  of 
a  church  in  San  Francisco,  and  to  him  is  largely  ascribed 
the  credit  of  saving  California  to  the  Union.  He  was  a 
man  of  deep  moral  convictions,  and  his  addresses  stirred 
the  heart  and  moved  the  conscience  of  California. 

The  Southern  element  was  very  strong  on  the  Pacific 
Slope,  and  it  made  itself  felt  in  politics  especially.  Nearly 
one  third  of  the  delegates  to  the  Constitutional  Con- 
vention, held  in  September,  1849,  were  Southern  men, 
and  they  acted  as  a  unit  under  the  leadership  of  W.  M. 
Gwinn,  afterward  a  member  of  the  United  States  Senate. 
The  ultimate  design  of  the  Southern  delegates  was  the 
division  of  California  into  two  States,  the  more  southern 
of  which  should  be  a  slave  State.  Slavery  in  California 
was  openly  advocated.  But  the  Southern  party  was  a 
minority,  and  the  State  Constitution  declared  that  "nei- 
ther slavery  nor  involuntary  servitude,  unless  for  the 
punishment  of  crime,  shall  ever  be  tolerated  in  this 
State."  The  Constitution  did,  however,  exclude  the  tes- 
timony of  colored  persons  from  the  courts  ;  and  when,  in 
1852,  the  negroes  in  San  Francisco  presented  a  petition 
to  the  House  of  Representatives  asking  for  this  right 
or  privilege,  the  House  refused  to  receive  the  petition, 
a  majority  of  the  members  taking  it  as  an  insult.  One 
member  seriously  proposed  that  it  should  be  thrown  out 
of  the  window. 

In  May,  1852,  the  "San  Francisco  Daily  Herald"  de- 
clared that  the  delay  in  admitting  California  as  a  State 
was  due  to  Northern  Abolitionists,  of  whom  it  said,  with 
characteristic  mildness  :  "  Take  the  vile  crowd  of  Aboli- 
tionists from  the  Canadian  frontier  to  the  banks  of  the 
Delaware,  and  you  cannot  find  one  in  ten  thousand  of 
them  who  from  philanthropy  cares  the  amount  of  a  dollar 
what  becomes  of  the  colored  race.  What  they  want  is  of- 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO  37 

fice."  It  does  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  the  writer  that 
in  espousing  the  smallest  and  most  hated  political  party 
in  the  whole  country,  the  Abolitionists  had  not  taken  a 
very  promising  step  in  the  direction  of  office-holding. 

There  was  even  talk  of  turning  California  into  a  "  Pa- 
cific Republic,"  in  the  event  of  a  dissolution  of  the 
Union.  And  that  event  was  longed  for  by  at  least  one 
California  paper  on  the  ground  that  "it  would  shut 
down  on  the  immigration  of  these  vermin,"  i.  e.  the  Chi- 
nese. How  far  Southern  effrontery  went  may  be  gath- 
ered from  the  fact  that  even  the  sacred  institution  of 
Thanksgiving  Day  was  ridiculed  by  another  California 
paper  as  an  absurd  Yankee  notion. 

From  1 85 1  until  the  period  of  the  Civil  War  the 
Democratic  Party  ruled  the  State  of  California  under  the 
leadership  of  Gwinn.  Northern  men  constituted  a  major- 
ity of  the  party,  but  they  submitted  to  the  dictation  of 
the  Southerners,  just  as  the  Democratic  Party  in  the 
North  submitted  to  the  dictation  of  the  Southern  lead- 
ers. The  only  California  politician  who  could  cope  with 
Gwinn  was  Broderick, — a  typical  Irishman,  trained  by 
Tammany  Hall. 

Not  without  difficulty  was  California  saved  to  the 
Union ;  in  fact,  until  the  rebels  fired  upon  Fort  Sum- 
ter, the  real  sentiment  of  the  State  was  unknown.  Bret 
Harte  has  touched  upon  this  episode.  In  Mrs.  Bunker  s 
Conspiracy y  the  attempt  of  the  extreme  Southern  element 
to  seize  and  fortify  a  blufi"  commanding  the  city  of  San 
Francisco  is  foiled  by  a  Northern  woman  ;  and  in  Clar- 
ence we  have  a  glimpse  of  the  city  as  it  appeared  after 
news  came  of  the  first  act  of  open  rebellion :  "  From 
every  public  building  and  hotel,  from  the  roofs  of  private 
houses  and  even  the  windows  of  lonely  dwellings,  flapped 
and  waved  the  striped  and  starry  banner.  The  steady 
breath  of  the  sea  carried  it  out  from  masts  and  yards  of 
ships  at  their  wharves,  from  the  battlements  of  the  forts, 


38  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Alcatraz  and  Yerba  Buena.  .  .  .  Clarence  looked  down 
upon  it  with  haggard,  bewildered  eyes,  and  then  a  strange 
gasp  and  fulness  of  the  throat.  For  afar  a  solitary  bugle 
had  blown  the  reveille  at  Fort  Alcatraz." 

At  this  critical  time,  a  mass  meeting  was  held  in  San 
Francisco,  and,  at  the  suggestion  of  Starr  King,  Bret 
Harte  wrote  a  poem  to  be  read  at  the  meeting.  The 
poem  was  called  The  ReveilUy  but  is  better  known  as 
The  Druin.  The  first  and  last  stanzas  are  as  follows :  — 

Hark !  I  hear  the  tramp  of  thousands, 

And  of  arm^d  men  the  hum ; 
Lo !  a  nation's  hosts  have  gathered 
Round  the  quick  alarming  drum,  — 
Saying,  "  Come, 
Freemen,  Come  ! 
Ere  your  heritage  be  wasted,"  said  the  quick  alarming  drum. 


Thus  they  answered,  —  hoping,  fearing, 

Some  in  faith,  and  doubting  some, 
Till  a  trumpet-voice,  proclaiming. 
Said,  "  My  chosen  people,  come  ! " 
Then  the  drum 
Lo  !  was  dumb, 
For  the  great  heart  of  the  nation,  throbbing,  answered,  "  Lord,  we 
come ! " 

As  these  last  words  were  read,  the  great  audience 
rose  to  its  feet,  and  with  a  mighty  shout  proclaimed  the 
loyalty  of  California.  Emerson,  as  Mr.  John  Jay  Chap- 
man has  finely  said,  sent  a  thousand  sons  to  the  war ; 
and  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  Bret  Harte's 
noble  poem  fired  many  a  manly  heart  in  San  Francisco. 

When  the  war  began,  Starr  King  was  active  in  estab- 
lishing the  California  branch  of  the  Sanitary  Commis- 
sion. He  died  of  diphtheria  in  March,  1864,  just  as  the 
tide  of  battle  was  turning  in  favor  of  the  North.  It  will 
thus  be  seen  that  his  career  in  California  exactly  cov- 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO  39 

ered,  and  only  just  covered,  that  short  period  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  State  when  the  services  of  such  a  man  were, 
humanly  speaking,  indispensable. 

The  Reveille  was  followed  by  other  patriotic  poems, 
and  after  Mr.  King's  death  Bret  Harte  wrote  in  mem- 
ory of  him  the  poem  called  Relieving  Guards  which  in- 
dicates, one  may  safely  say,  the  high-water  mark  of  the 
author's  poetic  talent.  In  the  year  following  Mr.  King's 
death  Bret  Harte's  second  son  was  born,  and  received 
the  name  of  Francis  King. 

On  May  25,  1864,  the  first  number  of  "The  Calif or- 
nian  "  appeared.  This  was  the  famous  weekly  edited  and 
published  by  the  late  Charles  Henry  Webb,  and  written 
mainly  by  Bret  Harte,  Mark  Twain,  Webb  himself.  Pren- 
tice Mulford,  and  Mr.  Stoddard.  It  was  of  **The  Cali- 
fornian"  that  Mr.  Howells  wittily  said :  "  These  ingenu- 
ous young  men,  with  the  fatuity  of  gifted  people,  had 
established  a  literary  newspaper  in  San  Francisco,  and 
they  brilliantly  cooperated  to  its  early  extinction." 

It  is  an  interesting  coincidence  that  Bret  Harte  and 
Mark  Twain  both  began  their  literary  careers  in  San 
Francisco,  and  at  almost  the  same  time.  Bret  Harte  was 
engaged  upon  "  The  Californian,"  and  Mark  Twain  was 
a  reporter  for  the  **  Morning  Call,"  when  they  were  in- 
troduced to  each  other  by  a  common  friend,  Mr.  George 
Barnes.  Bret  Harte  thus  describes  his  first  impression 
of  the  new  acquaintance  :  — 

"  His  head  was  striking.  He  had  the  curly  hair,  the 
aquiline  nose,  and  even  the  aquiline  eye  —  an  eye  so 
eagle-like  that  a  second  lid  would  not  have  surprised 
me  —  of  an  unusual  and  dominant  nature.  His  eye- 
brows were  very  thick  and  bushy.  His  dress  was  careless, 
and  his  general  manner  one  of  supreme  indifference  to 
surroundings  and  circumstances.  Barnes  introduced  him 
as  Mr.  Sam  Clemens,  and  remarked  that  he  had  shown 
a  very  unusual  talent  in  a  number  of  newspaper  articles 


40  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

contributed  under  the  signature  of  *Mark  Twain.'  We 
talked  on  different  topics,  and  about  a  month  afterward 
Clemens  dropped  in  upon  me  again.  He  had  been  away 
in  the  mining  districts  on  some  newspaper  assignment 
in  the  mean  time.  In  the  course  of  conversation  he  re- 
marked that  the  unearthly  laziness  that  prevailed  in  the 
town  he  had  been  visiting  was  beyond  anything  in  his 
previous  experience.  He  said  the  men  did  nothing  all  day 
long  but  sit  around  the  bar-room  stove,  spit,  and  '  swop 
lies.'  He  spoke  in  a  slow,  rather  satirical  drawl,  which 
was  in  itself  irresistible.  He  went  on  to  tell  one  of  those 
extravagant  stories,  and  half  unconsciously  dropped  into 
the  lazy  tone  and  manner  of  the  original  narrator.  I 
asked  him  to  tell  it  again  to  a  friend  who  came  in,  and 
then  asked  him  to  write  it  out  for  'The  Cahfomian.* 
He  did  so,  and  when  published  it  was  an  emphatic  suc- 
cess. It  was  the  first  work  of  his  that  had  attracted  gen- 
eral attention,  and  it  crossed  the  Sierras  for  an  Eastern 
reading.  The  story  was  'The  Jumping  Frog  of  Cala- 
veras.' It  is  now  known  and  laughed  over,  I  suppose, 
wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken ;  but  it  will 
never  be  as  funny  to  any  one  in  print  as  it  was  to  me, 
told  for  the  first  time  by  the  unknown  Twain  himself  on 
that  morning  in  the  San  Francisco  Mint." 

The  first  article  that  appeared  in  "The  Californian" 
was  Bret  Harte's  Neighborhoods  I  have  Moved  Fronts 
and  next  his  Ballad  of  the  Emeu j  but  neither  was  signed. 
Both  of  these  are  in  the  collected  edition  of  his  works. 
The  Condensed  Novels  were  continued  in  "  The  Califor- 
nian," and  Bret  Harte  also  contributed  to  it  many  poems, 
sketches,  essays,  editorial  articles  and  book  reviews. 
Some  of  these  were  unsigned;  some  were  signed  "  B  "  or 
"  Bret,"  and  occasionally  the  signature  was  his  full  name. 

No  reader  who  appreciates  the  finished  workmanship  of 
Bret  Harte  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  he  was  a  slow 
and  intensely  self -critical  writer.  There  is  much  interest- 


STORESHIP   APOLLO 
Old  Ship  used  as  a  Saloon 


Copyright,  Century  Co. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO  41 

ing  testimony  on  this  point.  Mr.  Howells  says  :  "  His 
talent  was  not  a  facile  gift ;  he  owned  that  he  often  went 
day  after  day  to  his  desk,  and  sat  down  before  that  yel- 
low post-office  paper  on  which  he  liked  to  write  his  lit- 
erature, in  that  exquisitely  refined  script  of  his,  without 
being  able  to  inscribe  a  line.  .  .  .  When  it  came  to  lit- 
erature, all  the  gay  improvidence  of  life  forsook  him,  and 
he  became  a  stern,  rigorous,  exacting  self-master,  who 
spared  himself  nothing  to  achieve  the  perfection  at  which 
he  aimed.  He  was  of  the  order  of  literary  men  like  Gold- 
smith and  De  Quincey  and  Sterne  and  Steele,  in  his 
relations  with  the  outer  world,  but  in  his  relations  with 
the  inner  world,  he  was  one  of  the  most  duteous  and  ex- 
emplary citizens." 

Noah  Brooks  wrote  as  follows  :  "  Scores  of  writers  have 
become  known  to  me  in  the  course  of  a  long  life,  but  I 
have  never  known  another  so  fastidious  and  so  laborious 
as  Bret  Harte.  His  writing  materials,  the  light  and  heat, 
and  even  the  adjustment  of  the  furniture  of  the  writing- 
room,  must  be  as  he  desired ;  otherwise  he  could  not  go 
on  with  his  work.  Even  when  his  environment  was  all 
that  he  could  wish,  there  were  times  when  the  divine 
afflatus  would  not  come  and  the  day's  work  must  be 
abandoned.  My  editorial  rooms  in  San  Francisco  were 
not  far  from  his  secluded  den,  and  often,  if  he  opened 
my  door  late  in  the  afternoon,  with  a  peculiar  cloud  on 
his  face,  I  knew  that  he  had  come  to  wait  for  me  to  go 
to  dinner  with  him,  having  given  up  the  impossible  task 
of  writing  when  the  mood  was  not  on  him.  '  It 's  no 
use.  Brooks,*  he  would  say.  'Everything  goes  wrong; 
I  cannot  write  a  line.  Let 's  have  an  early  dinner  at 
Martini's.'  As  soon  as  I  was  ready  we  would  go  merrily 
off  to  dine  together,  and,  having  recovered  his  equan- 
imity, he  would  stick  to  his  desk  through  the  later  hours 
of  the  night,  slowly  forging  those  masterpieces  which 
cost  him  so  dearly. 


42  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

"  Harte  was  reticent  concerning  his  work  while  it  was 
in  progress.  He  never  let  the  air  in  upon  his  story  or 
his  verses.  Once,  indeed,  he  asked  me  to  help  him  in  a 
calculation  to  ascertain  how  long  a  half -sack  of  flour  and 
six  pounds  of  side-meat^  would  last  a  given  number  of 
persons.  This  was  the  amount  of  provision  he  had  allowed 
his  outcasts  of  Poker  Flat,  and  he  wanted  to  know  just 
how  long  the  snow-bound  scapegoats  could  live  on  that 
supply.  I  used  to  save  for  him  the  Eastern  and  English 
newspaper  notices  of  his  work,  and  once,  when  he  had 
looked  through  a  goodly  lot  of  these  laudatory  notes,  he 
said :  *  These  fellows  see  a  heap  of  things  in  my  stories 
that  I  never  put  there.'  " 

Mr.  Stoddard  recalls  this  incident :  "One  day  I  found 
him  pacing  the  floor  of  his  office  in  the  United  States 
Mint ;  he  was  knitting  his  brows  and  staring  at  vacancy, 
—  I  wondered  why.  He  was  watching  and  waiting  for 
a  word,  the  right  word,  the  one  word  of  all  others  to  fit 
into  a  line  of  recently  written  prose.  I  suggested  one ; 
it  would  not  answer ;  it  must  be  a  word  of  two  syllables, 
or  the  natural  rhythm  of  the  sentence  would  suffer. 
Thus  he  perfected  his  prose." 

In  the  sketch  entitled  My  First  Book,  printed  in  vol- 
ume ten  of  his  works,  Bret  Harte  has  given  some  amus- 
ing reminiscences  concerning  the  volume  of  California 
poems  edited  by  him,  and  published  in  1866.  His  selec- 
tion as  Editor,  he  says,  "was  chiefly  owing  to  the  cir- 
cumstance that  I  had  from  the  outset,  with  precocious 
foresight,  confided  to  the  publisher  my  intention  of  not 
putting  any  of  my  own  verses  in  the  volume.  Publishers 
are  appreciative  ;  and  a  self-abnegation  so  sublime,  to 
say  nothing  of  its  security,  was  not  without  its  effect." 
After  narrating  his  extreme  difficulty  in  reducing  the 
number  of  his  selections  from  the  numerous  poets  of 

1  Side-meat  is  the  thin  flank  of  a  pig,  cured  like  a  ham.  It  was  the 
staple  article  of  food  in  the  Southwest. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO  43 

California,  he  goes  on  to  describe  the  reception  of  the 
volume.  It  sold  well,  the  purchasers  apparently  being 
amateur  poets  who  were  anxious  to  discover  whether 
they  were  represented  in  the  book.  "  People  would  lounge 
into  the  shop,  turn  over  the  leaves  of  other  volumes,  say 
carelessly  *Got  a  new  book  of  California  poetry  out, 
have  n't  you.^ '  purchase  it,  and  quietly  depart." 

"  There  were  as  yet,"  the  Editor  continues,  "no  notices 
from  the  press ;  the  big  dailies  were  silent ;  there  was 
something  ominous  in  this  calm.  Out  of  it  the  bolt  fell ; " 
and  he  quotes  the  following  notice  from  a  country  paper  : 
"  *  The  Hogwash  and  "  purp  "  stuff  ladled  out  from  the 

slop-bucket  of  Messrs. and  Co.,  of  'Frisco,  by  some 

lop-eared  Eastern  apprentice,  and  called  "A  Compila- 
tion of  Californian  Verse,"  might  be  passed  over,  so  far 
as  criticism  goes.  A  club  in  the  hands  of  any  able-bodied 
citizen  of  Red  Dog,  and  a  steamboat  ticket  to  the  Bay, 
cheerfully  contributed  from  this  office,  would  be  all-suf- 
ficient. But  when  an  imported  greenhorn  dares  tq  call 
his  flapdoodle  mixture  "  Californian,"  it  is  an  insult  to 
the  State  that  has  produced  the  gifted  "Yellowham- 
mer,"  whose  lofty  flights  have  from  time  to  time  dazzled 
our  readers  in  the  columns  of  the  "  Jay  Hawk."  That  this 
complacent  editorial  jackass,  browsing  among  the  docks 
and  thistles  which  he  has  served  up  in  this  volume, 
should  make  no  allusion  to  California's  greatest  bard  is 
rather  a  confession  of  his  idiocy  than  a  slur  upon  the 
genius  of  our  esteemed  contributor.'  " 

Other  criticisms,  inspired  by  like  omissions,  followed, 
each  one  rivalling  its  predecessor  in  severity.  "  The  big 
dailies  collected  the  criticisms  and  published  them  in 
their  own  columns  with  the  grim  irony  of  exaggerated 
head-lines.  The  book  sold  tremendously  on  account  of 
this  abuse,  but  I  am  afraid  that  the  public  was  disap- 
pointed. The  fun  and  interest  lay  in  the  criticisms,  and 
not  in  any  pointedly  ludicrous  quality  in  the  rather  com- 


44  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

monplace  collection  .  .  .  and  I  have  long  since  been 
convinced  that  my  most  remorseless  critics  were  not  in 
earnest,  but  were  obeying  some  sudden  impulse,  started 
by  the  first  attacking  journal.  ...  It  was  a  large,  con- 
tagious joke,  passed  from  journal  to  journal  in  a  peculiar 
cyclonic  Western  fashion." 

A  year  later,  not,  as  Bret  Harte  himself  states,  in  1865, 
but  in  1867,  the  first  collection  of  his  own  poems  was 
published.  The  volume  was  a  thin  twelvemo,  bound  in 
green  cloth,  with  a  gilt  design  of  a  sail  on  the  cover,  the 
title-page  reading  as  follows  :  "  The  Lost  Galleon  and 
Other  Tales.  By  Fr.  Bret  Harte,  San  Francisco.  Tame 
and  Bacon,  Printers,  1867."  Most  of  these  poems  are  con- 
tained in  the  standard  edition  of  his  works. 

In  the  same  year  were  published  the  Condensed  Novels 
and  the  Bohemian  Papers^  reprinted  from  "The  Bul- 
letin "  and  "The  Californian,"  and  making,  as  the  author 
himself  said,  "  a  single,  not  very  plethoric  volume,  the 
writer's  first  book  of  prose."  He  adds  that  "during  this 
period,"  i.  e.  from  1862  to  1867,  he  produced  ^^The  So- 
ciety upon  the  Stanislaus ^  and  The  Story  of  MHiss,  —  the 
first  a  dialectical  poem,  the  second  a  Californian  ro- 
mance,—  his  first  efforts  toward  indicating  a  peculiarly 
characteristic  Western  American  literature.  He  would 
like  to  offer  these  facts  as  evidence  of  his  very  early, 
half-boyish,  but  very  enthusiastic  belief  in  such  a  possi- 
bility,—  a  belief  which  never  deserted  him,  and  which, 
a  few  years  later,  from  the  better  known  pages  of  the 
*  Overland  Monthly,'  he  was  able  to  demonstrate  to  a 
larger  and  more  cosmopolitan  audience  in  the  story  of 
The  Luck  of  Roaring  Campy  and  the  poem  of  the  Heathen 
Chinee'' 

The  "  Overland  Monthly  "  was  founded  in  July,  1868, 
by  Anton  Roman,  a  bookseller  on  Montgomery  Street, 
and  later  on  Clay  Street.  Mr.  Roman  was  possessed  of 
that  enthusiasm  which  every  new  enterprise  demands. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO  45 

**  He  had  thought  and  talked  about  the  Magazine,"  he 
declared,  "until  it  was  in  his  bones."  Bret  Harte  be- 
came the  first  Editor,  and  it  was  he  who  selected  the 
name.  The  "  Overland "  was  well  printed,  on  good 
paper,  and  the  cover  was  adorned  by  that  historic  grizzly 
bear  who,  standing  on  the  ties  of  the  newly-laid  railroad 
track,  with  half-turned  body  and  lowered  head,  seems 
prepared  to  dispute  the  right  of  way  with  the  locomotive 
which  might  shortly  be  expected  to  come  screaming 
down  the  track. 

There  was  originally  no  railroad  track  in  the  picture, 
simply  the  bear ;  and  how  the  deficiency  was  supplied  is 
thus  explained  by  Mark  Twain  in  a  letter  to  Thomas 
Bailey  Aldrich  :  "  Do  you  know  the  prettiest  fancy  and 
the  neatest  that  ever  shot  through  Harte's  brain.!*  It 
was  this :  When  they  were  trying  to  decide  upon  a 
vignette  for  the  cover  of  the  *  Overland,'  a  grizzly  bear 
(of  the  arms  of  the  State  of  California)  was  chosen.  Nahl 
Bros,  carved  him  and  the  page  was  printed,  with  him  in 
it,  looking  thus  : 


"As  a  bear,  he  was  a  success  —  he  was  a  good  bear. — 
But  then,  it  was  objected,  that  he  was  an  objectless  bear 
—  a  bear  that  meant  nothing  in  particular,  signified  no- 
thing, —  simply  stood  there  snarling  over  his  shoulder  at 
nothing — and  was  painfully  and  manifestly  a  boorish 
and  ill-natured  intruder  upon  the  fair  page.  All  hands 
said  that  —  none  were  satisfied.  They  hated  badly  to 
give  him  up,  and  yet  they  hated  as  much  to  have  him 
there  when  there  was  no  point  to  him.  But  presently 


46  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Harte  took  a  pencil  and  drew  these  two  simple  lines 

under  his  feet  and  behold  he  was  a  magnificent  success  ! 

.^.imsmm  m^^mmm  — the  ancient   symbol  of  Cali- 

/^  ^    -\    fornian  savagery  snarling  at  the 

^   approaching  type   of   high   and 

progressive  Civilization,  the  first 

Overland  locomotive ! 

'•  i  thmk  thai  was  nothing  less  than  inspiration 
itself." 

In  the  same  letter  Mark  Twain  pays  the  following 
magnanimous  tribute  to  his  old  friend:  "Bret  Harte 
trimmed  and  trained  and  schooled  me  patiently  until  he 
changed  me  from  an  awkward  utterer  of  coarse  grotesque- 
ness  to  a  writer  of  paragraphs  and  chapters  that  have 
found  a  certain  favor  in  the  eyes  of  even  some  of  the 
very  decentest  people  in  the  land,  —  and  this  grateful 
remembrance  of  mine  ought  to  be  worth  its  face,  seeing 
that  Bret  broke  our  long  friendship  a  year  ago  without 
any  cause  or  provocation  that  I  am  aware  of." 

The  Editor  had  no  prose  article  of  his  own  in  the  first 
number  of  the  "Overland,"  but  he  contributed  two 
poems,  the  noble  lines  about  San  Francisco,  which, 
with  characteristic  modesty  he  placed  in  the  middle  of 
the  number,  and  the  poem  entitled  Returned'^  in  the 
"  Etc."  column  at  the  end. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  publication  which  first  made 
Bret  Harte  known  upon  the  Atlantic  as  well  as  upon  the 
Pacific  coast.  The  opening  number  of  the  "  Overland  " 
had  contained  no  "distinctive  Californian  romance,"  as 
Bret  Harte  expressed  it,  and  none  such  being  offered  for 
the  second  number,  the  Editor  supplied  the  omission  with 
The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp.  But  the  printer,  instead  of 
sending  the  proof-sheets  to  the  writer  of  the  story,  as 
would  have  been  the  ordinary  course,  submitted  them  to 

1  This  poem  is  included  in  the  author's  collected  poems  under  the  title, 
The  Return  of  Belisarius, 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO    47 

the  publisher,  with  a  statement  that  the  matter  was  so 
"indecent,  irreligious  and  improper"  that  his  proof- 
reader, a  young  lady,  had  with  difficulty  been  induced 
to  read  it.  Then  followed  many  consultations  between 
author,  publisher,  and  various  high  literary  authorities 
whose  judgment  had  been  invoked.  Opinions  differed, 
but  the  weight  of  opinion  was  against  the  tale,  and  the 
expediency  of  printing  it.  Nevertheless,  the  author  — 
conceiving  that  his  fitness  as  Editor  was  now  in  question 
—  stood  to  his  guns ;  the  publisher,  though  fearful  of 
the  result,  stood  by  him ;  and  the  tale  was  published 
without  the  alteration  of  a  word.  It  was  received  very 
coldly  by  the  secular  press  in  California,  its  "singularity" 
being  especially  pointed  out;  and  it  was  bitterly  de- 
nounced by  the  religious  press  as  being  immoral  and  un- 
christian. But  there  was  a  wider  public  to  hear  from. 
The  return  mail  from  the  East  brought  newspapers  and 
reviews  "welcoming  the  little  foundling  of  Calif ornian 
literature  with  an  enthusiasm  that  half  frightened  its 
author."  ^  The  mail  brought  also  a  letter  from  the  Edi- 
tor of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly"  with  a  request  "upon 
the  most  flattering  terms  "  that  he  would  write  a  story 
for  the  "Atlantic,"  similar  to  the  Luck. 

It  should  be  recorded,  as  an  interesting  contrast  to 
the  impression  made  by  the  Luck  upon  the  San  Fran- 
cisco young  woman,  that  it  was  also  a  girl,  Miss  Susan 
M.  Francis,  a  literary  assistant  with  the  publishers  of 
the  "  Atlantic  Monthly,"  who,  struck  by  the  freshness 
and  beauty  of  the  tale,  brought  it  to  the  attention  of  Mr. 
James  T.  Fields,  then  the  Editor  of  the  magazine,  with 
the  result  which  Bret  Harte  has  described. 

Nor  should  the  attitude  of  the  California  young  per- 
son, and  of  San  Francisco  in  general,  excite  surprise. 
The  Pioneers  could  not  be  expected  to  see  the  moral 
beauty  that  lay  beneath  the  rough  outward  aspect  of 

1  Bret  Harte  in  the  General  Introduction  to  his  works. 


48  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

affairs  on  the  Pacific  Slope.  The  poetry  of  their  own  ex- 
istence was  hidden  from  them.  But  California,  though 
crude,  was  self-distrustful,  and  it  bowed  to  the  decision 
of  the  East.  Bret  Harte  was  honored,  even  if  not  under- 
stood or  appreciated. 

The  "Overland"  was  well  received,  and  the  high 
character  of  the  first  two  numbers  was  long  maintained. 
Aside  from  Bret  Harte's  work,  many  volumes  of  prose 
and  verse  have  been  republished  from  the  magazine, 
and  most  of  them  deserved  the  honor.  In  the  early 
Fifties  the  proportion  of  really  educated  men  to  the  whole 
population  was  greater  in  California  than  in  any  other 
State,  and  probably  this  was  true  even  of  the  period 
when  the  "  Overland "  was  founded.  Scholarship  and 
cultivation  were  concealed  in  rough  mining  towns,  in 
lumber  camps,  and  on  remote  ranches.  Among  the 
women,  especially,  were  many  who,  like  the  Sappho  of 
Green  Springs,  gathered  from  their  lonely,  primitive 
lives  a  freshness  and  originality  which  perhaps  they 
never  would  have  shown  in  more  conventional  surround- 
ings. This  class  furnished  numerous  readers  and  a  few 
writers.  Officers  of  the  Army  and  Navy  stationed  in 
California  contributed  some  interesting  scientific  and 
literary  articles  to  the  early  numbers  of  the  "  Overland." 

Notwithstanding  the  success  of  his  first  story,  Bret 
Harte  was  in  no  haste  to  rush  into  print  with  another. 
He  had  none  pf  that  disposition  to  make  hay  while  the 
sun  shines  which  has  spoiled  many  a  story-writer.  Six 
months  elapsed  before  the  Ltick  was  followed  by  The 
Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat.  Meanwhile  he  was  carefully  and 
patiently  discharging  his  duties  as  Editor.  Mr.  Stoddard 
has  thus  described  him  in  that  capacity  :  "  Fortunately 
for  me  he  took  an  interest  in  me  at  a  time  when  I  was 
most  in  need  of  advice,  and  to  his  criticism  and  his  en- 
couragement I  feel  that  I  owe  all  that  is  best  in  my 
literary  efforts.   He  was  not  afraid  to  speak  his  mind, 


BRET  HARTE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO    49 

and  I  know  well  enough  what  occasion  I  gave  him :  yet 
he  did  not  judge  me  more  severely  than  I  judged  myself. 
...  I  am  sure  that  the  majority  of  the  contributors  to 
the  *  Overland  Monthly '  profited  as  I  did  by  his  careful 
and  judicious  criticism.  Fastidious  to  a  degree,  he  could 
not  overlook  a  lack  of  finish  in  the  manuscript  offered  to 
him.  He  had  a  special  taste  in  the  choice  of  titles,  and  I 
have  known  him  to  alter  the  name  of  an  article  two  or 
three  times  in  order  that  the  table  of  contents  might 
read  handsomely  and  harmoniously." 

One  of  the  most  frequent  contributors  to  the  "  Over- 
land "  was  Miss  Ina  B.  Coolbrith,  author  of  many  pol- 
ished and  imaginative  poems  and  stories.  In  a  recent 
letter  Miss  Coolbrith  thus  speaks  of  Bret  Harte  as  an 
Editor :  "  To  me  he  was  unfailingly  kind  and  generous, 
looking  out  for  my  interests  as  one  of  his  contributors 
with  as  much  care  as  he  accorded  to  his  own.  I  can  only 
speak  of  him  in  terms  of  unqualified  praise  as  author, 
friend  and  man." 

The  poem  entitled  Plain  Language  from  Truthful 
James,  or  the  Heathen  Chinee,  as  it  is  popularly  known, 
and  as  Bret  Harte  himself  afterward  called  it,  first  ap- 
peared in  the  "Overland"  for  September,  1870.  Within 
a  few  weeks  it  had  spread  over  the  English-speaking 
world.  The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp  gave  Bret  Harte  a 
literary  reputation,  but  this  poem  made  him  famous.  It 
was  copied  by  the  newspapers  almost  universally,  both 
here  and  in  England ;  and  it  increased  the  circulation 
of  the  "  Overland "  so  much  that,  two  months  after  its 
appearance,  a  single  news  company  in  New  York  was 
selling  twelve  hundred  copies  of  the  magazine.  Almost 
everybody  had  a  clipping  of  these  verses  tucked  into  his 
waistcoat  pocket  or  carried  in  his  purse.  Quotations 
from  it  were  on  every  lip,  and  some  of  its  most  sig- 
nificant lines  were  recited  with  applause  in  the  National 
House  of  Representatives. 


so  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

It  came  at  a  fortunate  moment  when  the  people  of  this 
country  were  just  awaking  to  the  fact  that  there  was  a 
"Chinese  problem,"  and  when  interest  in  the  race  was 
becoming  universal  in  the  East  as  well  as  in  the  West. 
Says  that  acute  critic,  Mr.  James  Douglas :  "  There  is 
an  element  of  chance  in  the  fabrication  of  great  poems. 
The  concatenation  comes,  the  artist  puts  the  pieces  into 
their  places,  and  the  result  is  permanent  wonder.  The 
Heathen  Chinee  in  its  happy  felicity  is  quite  as  unique  as 
*The  Blessed  Damozel.'" 

The  Heathen  Chinee  is  remarkable  for  the  absolutely 
impartial  attitude  of  the  writer.  He  observes  the  China- 
man neither  from  the  locally  prejudiced,  California  point 
of  view,  nor  from  an  ethical  or  reforming  point  of  view. 
His  part  is  neither  to  approve  nor  condemn,  but  simply  to 
state  the  fact  as  it  is,  not  indeed  with  the  coldness  of  an 
historian  but  with  the  sympathy  and  insight  of  a  poet. 
But  this  is  not  all,  in  fact,  as  need  hardly  be  said,  it  is 
not  enough  to  make  the  poem  endure.  It  endures  be- 
cause it  has  a  beauty  of  form  which  approaches  perfec- 
tion. It  is  hackneyed,  and  yet  as  fresh  as  on  the  day 
when  it  was  written.^ 

Truthful  James  himself  who  tells  the  story  was  a  real 
character,  —  nay  is,  for,  at  the  writing  of  these  pages, 
he  still  lived  in  the  same  little  shanty  where  he  was  to 
be  found  when  Bret  Harte  knew  him.  At  that  time,  in 
1856,  or  thereabout,  Bret  Harte  was  teaching  school  at 
Tuttletown,  a  few  miles  north  of  Sonora,  and  Truthful 
James,  Mr.  James  W.  Gillis,  lived  over  the  hill  from 
Tuttletown,  at  a  place  called  Jackass  Flat.  Mr.  Gillis  was 
well  known  and  highly  respected  in  all  that  neighborhood, 
and  he  figures  not  only  in  Bret  Harte's  poetry,  but  also 

1  The  proof-sheets  of  the  Heathen  Chinee  are  preserved  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  California,  and  they  show  many  changes  in  Bret  Harte's  writing. 
See  "  Bret  Harte's  Country,"  an  interesting  illustrated  article  by  Will.  M. 
Clemens,  in  "  The  Bookman,"  vol.  xiii,  p.  224. 


BRET  HARTE   IN  SAN   FRANCISCO  51 

in  Mark  Twain's  works,  where  he  is  described  as  **  The 
Sage  of  Jackass  Hill." 

It  is  a  proof  both  of  Bret  Harte's  remarkable  freedom 
from  vanity,  and  of  the  keen  criticism  which  he  bestowed 
upon  his  own  writings,  that  he  never  set  much  value 
upon  the  Heatheji  Chinee^  even  after  its  immense  popu- 
larity had  been  attained.  When  he  wrote  it,  he  thought 
it  unworthy  of  a  place  in  the  "Overland"  and  handed 
it  over  to  Mr.  Ambrose  Bierce,  then  Editor  of  the 
*'  News  Letter,"  ^  a  weekly  paper,  for  publication  there. 
Mr.  Bierce,  however,  recognizing  its  value,  unselfishly  ad- 
vised Bret  Harte  to  give  it  a  place  in  the  "  Overland," 
and  this  was  finally  done.  "Nevertheless,"  says  Mr. 
Bierce,  "it  was  several  months  before  he  overcame  his 
prejudice  against  the  verses  and  printed  them.  Indeed 
he  never  cared  for  the  thing,  and  was  greatly  amused  by 
the  meanings  that  so  many  read  into  it.  He  said  he 
meant  nothing  whatever  by  it." 

We  have  Mark  Twain's  word  to  the  same  effect.  "  In 
1866,"  he  writes,  "  I  went  to  the  Sandwich  Islands,  and 
when  I  returned,  after  several  years,  Harte  was  famous 
as  the  author  of  the  Heathen  Chinee.  He  said  that  the 
Heathen  Chinee  was  an  accident,  and  that  he  had  higher 
literary  ambitions  than  the  fame  that  could  come  from 
an  extravaganza  of  that  sort."  "  The  Luck  of  Roaring 
Camp,''  Mr.  Clemens  goes  on  to  say,  "was  the  salvation 
of  his  literary  career.  It  placed  him  securely  on  a  literary 
road  which  was  more  to  his  taste." 

Bret  Harte,  indeed,  frequently  held  back  for  weeks 
poems  which  he  had  completed,  but  with  which  he  was 
not  content.  As  one  of  his  fellow- workers  declared,  "He 
was  never  fully  satisfied  with  what  he  finally  allowed  to 
go  to  the  printer." 

His  position  in  San  Francisco  was  now  assured.  He 
had  been  made  professor  of  recent  literature  in  the  Uni- 

1  The  Society  upon  the  Stanislaus  first  appeared  in  the  *'  News  Letter." 


52  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

versity  of  California ;  he  retained  his  place  at  the  Mint, 
he  was  the  successful  Editor  of  the  "Overland,"  and  he 
was  happy  in  his  home  life.  One  who  knew  him  well  at 
this  period  speaks  of  him  as  **  always  referring  to  his  wife 
in  affectionate  ternvs,  and  quoting  her  clever  speeches, 
and  relating  with  fond  enjoyment  the  funny  sayings  and 
doings  of  his  children." 

Let  us,  for  the  moment,  leave  Bret  Harte  thus  hap- 
pily situated,  and  glance  at  that  Pioneer  life  which  he 
was  now  engaged  in  portraying.  Said  a  San  Francisco 
paper  in  185 1,  "The  world  will  never  know,  and  no  one 
could  imagine  the  heart-rending  scenes,  or  the  instances 
of  courage  and  heroic  self-sacrifice  which  have  occurred 
among  the  California  Pioneers  during  the  last  three 
years ! " 

And  yet  when  these  words  were  penned  there  was 
growing  up  in  the  East  a  stripling  destined  to  preserve 
for  posterity  some  part,  at  least,  of  those  very  occurrences 
which  otherwise  would  have  remained  "  unrecorded  and 
forgot." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   PIONEER   MEN   AND    WOMEN 

When  Bret  Harte  first  became  famous  he  was  accused 
of  misrepresenting  Pioneer  society.  A  California  writer 
of  great  ability —  no  less  a  person  than  Professor  Royce, 
the  eminent  philosopher  —  once  spoke  of  the  "  perverse 
romanticism  *'  of  his  tales  ;  and  after  Mr.  Harte's  death 
these  accusations,  if  they  may  be  called  such,  were  re- 
newed in  San  Francisco  with  some  bitterness.  It  is 
strange  that  Calif ornians  themselves  should  have  been 
so  anxious  to  strip  from  their  State  the  distinction  which 
Bret  Harte  conferred  upon  it,  —  so  anxious  to  prove 
that  its  heroic  age  never  existed,  that  life  in  California 
has  always  been  just  as  commonplace,  respectable  and 
uninteresting  as  it  is  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 

But,  be  this  as  it  may,  the  diaries,  letters  and  narra- 
tives written  by  Pioneers  themselves,  and,  most  import- 
ant of  all,  the  daily  newspapers  published  in  San  Fran- 
cisco and  elsewhere  from  1849  to  1855,  fully  corroborate 
Bret  Harte's  assertion  that  he  described  only  what  act- 
ually occurred.  "The  author  has  frequently  been  asked," 
he  wrote,  "if  such  and  such  incidents  were  real,  —  if 
he  had  ever  met  such  and  such  characters.  To  this  he 
must  return  the  one  answer,  that  in  only  a  single  in- 
stance was  he  conscious  of  drawing  purely  from  his  im- 
agination and  fancy  for  a  character  and  a  logical  succes- 
sion of  incidents  drawn  therefrom.  A  few  weeks  after 
his  story  was  published,  he  received  a  letter,  authenti- 
cally signed,  correcting  some  of  the  minor  details  of  his 
factSy  and  inclosing  as  corroborative  evidence  a  slip  from 
an  old  newspaper,  wherein  the  main  incident  of  his  sup- 
posed fanciful  creation  was  recorded  with  a  largeness  of 


54  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

statement  that  far  transcended  his  powers  of  imagina- 
tion." Even  that  bizarre  character,  the  old  Frenchman 
in  A  Ship  of  '49^  was  taken  absolutely  from  the  life,  ex- 
cept that  the  real  man  was  of  English  birth.  His  pecu- 
liarities, mental  and  physical,  his  dress,  his  wig,  his  resi- 
dence in  the  old  ship  were  all  just  as  they  are  described 
by  Bret  Harte.i 

This  is  not  to  say  that  everybody  in  California  was  a 
romantic  person,  or  that  life  there  was  simply  a  succes- 
sion of  startling  incidents.  Ordinary  people  were  doing 
ordinary  things  on  the  Pacific  Slope,  just  as  they  did 
during  the  worst  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution.  But 
the  exceptional  persons  that  Bret  Harte  described  really 
existed ;  and,  moreover,  they  existed  in  such  proportion 
as  to  give  character  and  tone  to  the  whole  community. 

The  fact  is  that  Bret  Harte  only  skimmed  the  cream 
from  the  surface.  To  use  his  own  words  again,  "The 
faith,  courage,  vigor,  youth,  and  capacity  for  adventure 
necessary  to  this  emigration  produced  a  body  of  men  as 
strongly  distinctive  as  were  the  companions  of  Jason." 

They  were  picked  men  placed  in  extraordinary  circum- 
stances, and  how  could  that  combination  fail  to  result  in 
extraordinary  characters,  deeds,  events,  and  situations ! 
The  Forty-Niners,^  and  those  who  came  in  the  early 
Fifties,  were  such  men  as  enlist  in  the  first  years  of  a 
war.  They  were  young  men.  Never,  since  Mediaeval  days 
when  men  began  life  at  twenty  and  commonly  ended  it 
long  before  sixty,  was  there  so  youthful  a  society.  A 
man  of  fifty  with  a  gray  beard  was  pointed  out  in  the 
streets  of  San  Francisco  as  a  curiosity.  In  the  conven- 
tion to  organize  the  State  which  met  at  Monterey,  in 

1  See  Hittell's  "  History  of  California."  This  book,  the  best  and  fullest 
on  the  subject,  contains  ample  evidence  of  our  author's  accuracy. 

2  A  Forty-Niner,  as  defined  by  the  California  Society  of  Pioneers,  is  an 
immigrant  who,  before  midnight  of  December  31,  1849,  '^^^  within  the 
State  of  California,  or  on  shipboard  within  three  miles  of  the  coast,  that 
being  the  extent  of  the  maritime  jurisdiction  of  the  State. 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  55 

September,  1849,  there  were  forty-eight  delegates,  of 
whom  only  four  were  fifty  years  or  more ;  fifteen  were 
under  thirty  years  of  age ;  twenty-three  were  between 
thirty  and  forty.  These  were  the  venerable  men  of  the 
community,  selected  to"  make  the  laws  of  the  new  com- 
monwealth. A  company  of  California  emigrants  that  left 
Virginia  in  1852  consisted  wholly  of  boys  under  twenty.^ 

The  Pioneers  were  far  above  the  average  in  vigor  and 
enterprise,  and  in  education  as  well.  One  ship,  the  **  Ed- 
ward Everett,"  sailed  from  Boston  in  January,  1849,  with 
one  hundred  and  fifty  young  men  on  board  who  owned 
both  ship  and  cargo ;  and  the  distinguished  gentleman 
for  whom  they  had  named  their  ship  gave  them  a  case 
full  of  books  to  beguile  the  tedium  of  the  voyage  around 
Cape  Horn.  William  Grey,  who  wrote  an  interesting 
account  of  California  life,^  sailed  from  New  York  with 
a  ship-load  of  emigrants.  He  describes  them  as  a  "  fine- 
looking  and  well-educated  body  of  men, — all  young"; 
and  he  gives  a  similar  description  of  the  passengers  on 
three  other  ships  that  came  into  the  port  of  Rio  Janeiro 
while  he  was  there.  He  adds  that  on  his  ship  there  were 
only  three  bad  characters,  a  butcher  from  Washington 
Market  and  his  two  sons.  They  all  perished  within  a 
year  of  their  arrival  in  California.  The  father  died  while 
drunk,  one  of  the  sons  was  hanged,  and  the  other  was 
killed  in  a  street  row. 

The  Pioneers  were  handsome  men.^   They  were  tall 

1  There  was,  however,  a  miner  of  seventy  at  Sonoma  who  had  left  a 
wife  and  six  children  at  home  in  the  East ;  and  on  October  i,  1850,  there 
arrived  in  Sacramento  a  veteran  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  ninety  years 
of  age.  He  had  come  all  the  way  from  Illinois  to  seek  the  fortune  which 
fate  had  hitherto  denied  him.  Unfortunately,  he  was  so  feeble  that  it  be- 
came necessary  to  send  him  to  a  hospital,  and  history  does  not  record  his 
subsequent  career,  if  indeed  he  survived  to  have  one. 

2  «  Pioneer  Times  in  California." 

8  Mr.  Kipling,  who  visited  California  in  the  year  1898,  speaks  of  "  the 
remarkable  beauty  "  of  the  women  of  San  Francisco,  —  descendants  in 
most  cases  of  the  Pioneers. 


56  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

men.  Of  the  two  hundred  grown  men  in  the  town  of 
Suisun,  twenty-one  stood  over  six  feet  high.  Many  of 
the  Pioneers  were  persons  for  whom  a  career  is  not  easily 
found  in  a  conservative,  sophisticated  society ;  who,  in 
such  a  society,  fail  to  be  successful  as  much  because  of 
their  virtues  as  of  their  defects  ;  men  who  lack  that  com- 
bination of  cunning  and  ferocity  which  leads  most  directly 
to  the  acquisition  of  wealth ;  magnanimous,  free-handed, 
and  brave,  but  unthrifty  and  incapable  of  monotonous 
toil;  archaic  men,  not  quite  broken  in  to  the  modern 
ideal  of  drudging  at  one  task  for  six  days  in  the  week 
and  fifty  weeks  in  the  year.  Who  does  not  know  the 
type !  The  hero  of  novels,  the  idol  of  mothers,  the  alter- 
nate hope  and  despair  of  fathers,  the  truest  of  friends, 
the  most  ideal  and  romantic,  but  perhaps  not  the  most 
constant  of  lovers. 

From  the  Western  and  Southwestern  States  there 
came  across  the  Plains  a  different  type.  These  men  were 
Pioneers  already  by  inheritance  and  tradition,  somewhat 
ignorant,  slow  and  rough,  but  of  boundless  courage  and 
industry,  stoical  as  Indians,  independent  and  self-reliant. 
Most  of  Bret  Harte's  tragic  characters,  such  as  Tennes- 
see's Partner,  Madison  Wayne,  and  the  Bell-Ringer  of 
Angel's,  were  of  this  class. 

Many  of  these  emigrants,  especially  those  who  crossed 
the  Mountains  before  the  discovery  of  gold,  were  trap- 
pers and  hunters,  —  stalwart,  bearded  men,  clad  in  coats 
of  buffalo  hide,  with  faces  deeply  tanned  and  wrin- 
kled by  long  exposure  to  wind  and  weather.  Perhaps 
the  best  known  among  them  was  "old  Greenwood,"  a 
tall,  raw-boned,  muscular  man,  who  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
three  was  still  vigorous  and  active.  For  thirty  years  he 
made  his  home  among  the  Crow  Indians,  and  he  had 
taken  to  wife  a  squaw  who  bore  him  four  handsome  sons. 
His  dress  was  of  tanned  buckskin,  and  one  observer, 
more  squeamish  than  the  ordinary  Pioneer,  noted  the 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  57 

seeming  fact  that  it  had  never  been  removed  since  first 
he  put  it  on.  His  heroic  calibre  may  be  estimated  from 
the  fact  that  he  was  capable  of  eating  ten  pounds  of 
meat  a  day.  This  man  used  to  boast  that  he  had  killed 
more  than  a  hundred  Indians  with  his  own  hand.  But 
all  that  killing  had  been  done  in  fair  fight ;  and  when  a 
cowardly  massacre  of  seven  Indians,  captured  in  a  raid 
led  by  Greenwood's  sons,  took  place  near  Sacramento  in 
1849,  — o^^  ^^  many  such  acts,  — the  Greenwood  family 
did  their  best  to  save  the  victims.  After  the  deed  had 
been  done,  "Old  Greenwood,"  an  eye-witness  relates, 
"  raved  around  his  cabin,  tossed  his  arms  aloft  with  vio- 
lent denunciation,  and,  stooping  down,  gathered  the  dust 
in  his  palms,  and  sprinkled  it  on  his  head,  swearing  that 
he  was  innocent  of  their  blood." 

Another  hero  of  the  Pacific  Slope  in  those  large,  early 
days  was  Peg-leg  Smith.  He  derived  his  nickname  from 
a  remarkable  incident.  While  out  on  the  Plains  with  a 
wagon-load  of  suppHes,  Smith  —  plain  Smith  at  that 
time — was  accidentally  thrown  from  his  seat,  and  the 
heavy  wheel  passed  over  his  leg  below  the  knee,  crush- 
ing it  so  that  amputation  became  necessary.  There  was 
no  surgeon  within  hundreds  of  miles ;  but  if  the  ampu- 
tation were  not  performed,  it  was  plain  that  mortification 
and  death  would  soon  result.  In  this  emergency.  Smith 
hacked  out  a  rude  saw  from  a  butcher's  knife  which  he  had 
with  him,  built  a  fire  and  heated  an  iron  bolt  that  he  took 
from  the  wagon,  and  then,  with  his  hunting  knife  and  his 
improvised  saw,  cut  off  his  own  leg.  This  done,  he  drew  the 
flesh  down  over  the  wound,  and  seared  it  with  the  hot  iron 
to  prevent  bleeding.  He  recovered,  procured  a  wooden 
leg,  and  lived  to  take  part  in  many  succeeding  adventures. 

We  owe  California  primarily  to  these  hunters,  trappers 
and  adventurous  farmers  who  crossed  the  Mountains  on 
their  own  account,  or,  later,  as  members  of  Fremont's  band : 
Stern  men,  with  empires  in  their  brains. 


S8  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

They  firmly  believed  that  it  was  the  "  manifest  destiny  " 
of  the  United  States  to  spread  over  the  Continent ;  and 
this  conviction  was  not  only  a  patriotic,  but  in  some  sense 
a  religious  one.  They  were  mainly  descendants  of  the 
Puritans,  and  as  such  had  imbibed  Old  Testament  ideas 
which  justified  and  sanctioned  their  dreams  of  conquest. 
We  have  seen  how  the  venerable  Greenwood  covered 
his  head  with  dust  as  a  symbolic  act.  The  Reverend  Mr. 
Colton  records  a  significant  remark  made  to  him  by  a 
Pioneer,  seventy-six  years  old,  who  had  four  sons  in  Fre- 
mont's company,  and  who  himself  joined  the  Volunteers 
raised  in  California.  "  I  asked  him  if  he  had  no  compunc- 
tion in  taking  up  arms  against  the  native  inhabitants, 
the  moment  of  his  arrival.  He  said  he  had  Scripture 
example  for  it.  The  Israelites  took  the  promised  land 
of  the  East  by  arms,  and  the  Americans  must  take  the 
promised  land  of  the  West  in  the  same  way." 

And  Mr.  Colton  adds :  "  I  find  this  kind  of  parallel 
running  in  the  imagination  of  all  the  emigrants.  They 
seem  to  look  upon  this  beautiful  land  as  their  own  Ca- 
naan, and  the  motley  race  around  them  as  the  Hittites, 
the  Hivites  and  Jebusites  whom  they  are  to  drive 
out."i 

But,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  the  Biblical  argument  upon 
which  they  relied  was  in  the  nature  of  an  afterthought 
—  the  justification,  rather  than  the  cause  of  their  actions. 
What  really  moved  them,  although  they  did  not  know 
it,  was  that  primeval  instinct  of  expansion,  based  upon 
conscious  superiority  of  race,  to  which  have  been  due  all 
the  great  empires  of  the  past. 

Many  of  these  people  were  deeply  religious  in  a  Gothic 
manner,  and  Bret  Harte  has  touched  lightly  upon  this 
aspect  of  their  natures,  especially  in  the  case  of  Mr. 
Joshua  Rylands.  "  Mr.  Joshua  Rylands  had,  according 
to  the  vocabulary  of  his  class,  '  found  grace '  at  the  age 

1  The  Reverend  Walter  Colton.  "  Three  Years  in  California." 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  59 

of  sixteen,  while  still  in  the  spiritual  state  of  *  original 
sin,*  and  the  political  one  of  Missouri.  .  .  .  When,  after  the 
Western  fashion,  the  time  came  for  him  to  forsake  his 
father's  farm,  and  seek  a  new  *  quarter  section '  on  some 
more  remote  frontier,  he  carried  into  the  secluded,  lonely, 
half-monkish  celibacy  of  pioneer  life  —  which  has  been 
the  foundation  of  so  much  strong  Western  character  — 
more  than  the  usual  religious  feeling." 

Exactly  the  same  kind  of  man  is  described  in  that 
once  famous  story,  Mr.  Eggleston's  "  Circuit-Rider " ; 
and  it  is  still  found  in  the  mountains  of  Kentucky, 
where  the  maintenance  of  ferocious  feuds  and  a  constant 
readiness  to  kill  one's  enemies  at  sight  are  regarded  as 
not  inconsistent  with  a  sincere  profession  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion. 

The  reader  of  Bret  Harte's  stories  will  remember  how 
often  the  expression  "  Pike  County  "  or  "  Piker  "  occurs  ; 
and  this  use  is  strictly  historical.  As  a  very  intelligent 
Pioneer  expressed  it,  **  We  recognize  in  California  but 
two  types  of  the  Republican  character,  the  Yankee  and 
the  Missourian.  The  latter  term  was  first  used  to  repre- 
sent the  entire  population  of  the  West ;  but  Pike  County 
superseded,  first  the  name  of  the  State,  and  soon  that 
of  the  whole  West." 

How  did  this  come  about .?  Pike  County,  Missouri,  was 
named  for  Lieutenant  Zebulon  Montgomery  Pike,  the 
discoverer  of  Pike's  Peak,  and  the  officer  who  was  sent  by 
the  United  States  Government  to  explore  the  upper  part 
of  the  Mississippi  River.  He  was  killed  in  the  War  of 
1 8 12.  The  territory  was  first  settled  in  181 1  by  emi- 
grants from  Virginia,  Kentucky  and  Louisiana ;  and  it 
was  incorporated  as  a  county  in  1818.  It  borders  on  the 
Mississippi  River,  about  forty  miles  north  of  St.  Louis  ; 
and  its  whole  area  is  only  sixty  square  miles.  It  was  and 
is  an  agricultural  county,  and  in  1850  the  population 
amounted  to  only  thirteen  thousand,  six  hundred  and 


6o  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

nine  persons,  of  whom  about  half  were  negroes,  mostly 
slaves.  The  climate  is  healthy,  and  the  soil,  especially 
on  the  prairies,  is  very  fertile,  being  a  rich,  deep 
loam.^ 

Pike  County,  it  will  thus  be  seen,  is  but  a  small  part, 
both  numerically  and  geographically,  of  that  vast  West- 
ern territory  which  contributed  to  the  California  emi- 
gration ;  and  it  owes  its  prominence  among  the  Pioneers 
chiefly  to  a  copy  of  doggerel  verses.  In  1849,  Captain 
McPike,  a  leading  resident  of  the  County,  organized  a 
band  of  two  hundred  Argonauts  who  crossed  the  Plains. 
Among  them  was  an  ox-driver  named  Joe  Bowers,  who 
soon  made  a  reputation  in  the  company  as  a  humorist, 
as  an  "original,"  as  a  "greenhorn,"  and  as  a  "good  fel- 
low "  generally.  Joe  Bowers  was  poor,  he  was  in  love, 
he  was  seeking  a  fortune  in  order  that  he  might  lay  it  at 
the  feet  of  his  sweetheart ;  and  the  whole  company  be- 
came his  confidants  and  sympathizers. 

Another  member  of  the  party  was  a  certain  Frank 
Swift,  who  afterward  attained  some  reputation  as  a  jour- 
nalist ;  and  one  evening,  as  they  were  all  sitting  around 
the  camp-fire.  Swift  recited,  or  rather  sang  to  a  popular 
air,  several  stanzas  of  a  poem  about  Joe  Bowers,  which 
he  had  composed  during  the  day's  journey.  It  caught  the 
fancy  of  the  company  at  once,  and  soon  every  member 
was  singing  it.  The  poem  grew  night  by  night,  and  long 
before  they  reached  their  destination  it  had  become  a 
ballad  of  exasperating  length.  The  poet,  looking  forward 
in  a  fine  frenzy,  describes  the  girl  as  proving  faithless  to 
Joe  Bowers  and  marrying  a  red-haired  butcher.  This  bad 
news  comes  from  Joe's  brother  Ike  in  a  letter  which  also 
states  the  culminating  fact  of  the  tragedy,  as  the  follow- 
ing lines  reveal :  — 

*  Just  across  the  river,  in  the  State  of  Illinois,  is  another  Pike  County, 
similar  in  soil  and  population ;  and  this  Illinois  county  was  the  scene  of 
John  Hay's  "  Pike  County  Ballads." 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  6i 

It  told  me  more  than  that, 
Oh!  it  *s  enough  to  make  me  swear. 

It  said  Sally  had  a  baby, 
And  the  baby  had  red  hair  I 

Upon  their  arrival  in  California,  the  two  hundred  men 
who  composed  this  party  dispersed  in  all  directions,  and 
carried  the  ballad  with  them.  It  was  heard  everywhere 
in  the  mines,  and  in  1856  it  was  printed  in  a  cheap  form 
in  San  Francisco,  and  was  sung  by  Johnson's  minstrels 
at  a  hall  known  as  the  Old  Melodeon.  Joe  Bowers  thus 
became  the  type  of  the  unsophisticated  Western  miner, 
and  Pike  County  became  the  symbol  of  the  West.  Crude 
as  the  verses  are  they  are  sung  to  this  day  in  the  County 
which  gave  them  birth,  and  "Joe  Bowers"  is  still  a  famil- 
iar name  in  Missouri,  if  not  in  the  West  generally. 

This  ballad  which  came  across  the  Plains  had  its 
counterpart  in  a  much  better  song  produced  by  Jonathan 
Nichols,  a  Pioneer  who  sailed  on  the  bark  "  Eliza  "  from 
Salem,  Massachusetts,  in  December,  1848.  The  first 
stanza  is  as  follows :  — 

Tune,  Oh  I  Susanna.     (Key  of  G.) 

I  came  from  Salem  city, 

With  my  washbowl  on  my  knee, 
I  'm  going  to  California, 

The  gold  dust  for  to  see. 
It  rained  all  night  the  day  I  left, 

The  weather,  it  was  dry. 
The  sun  so  hot  I  froze  to  death, 

Oh  !  brothers,  don't  you  cry, 
Oh!  California, 

That 's  the  land  for  me  ! 
I  'm  going  to  Sacramento 

With  my  washbowl  on  my  knee. 

Under  the  title  of  the  "  California  Song  "  these  verses 
soon  became  the  common  property  of  every  ship  sailing 
from  Atlantic  ports  for  San  Francisco,  and  later  they 
were  heard  in  the  mines  almost  as  frequently  as  "  Joe 


62  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Bowers."  But,  as  hope  diminished  and  homesickness  in- 
creased, both  ballads  —  so  an  old  miner  relates  —  gave 
place  to  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  **01e  Virginny,"  and 
other  sad  ditties. 

Pike  County  seems  to  have  had  a  natural  tendency  to 
burst  into  poetry.  In  the  story  called  Devil's  Ford,  Bret 
Harte  gives  us  two  lines  from  a  poem  otherwise  un- 
known to  fame,  — 

"  *  Oh,  my  name  it  is  Johnny  from  Pike, 
I  'm  hell  on  a  spree  or  a  strike.' " 

In  the  story  of  The  New  Assistant  at  Pine  Clearing 
School,  three  big  boys  from  Pike  County  explained  to 
the  schoolmistress  their  ideas  upon  the  subject  of  edu- 
cation, as  follows :  "  *  We  ain't  hankerin'  much  for 
grammar  and  dictionary  hogwash,  and  we  don't  want  no 
Boston  parts  o'  speech  rung  in  on  us  the  first  thing 
in  the  mo'nin*.  We  reckon  to  do  our  sums  and  our  fig- 
gerin*,  and  our  sale  and  barter,  and  our  interest  tables 
and  weights  and  measures  when  the  time  comes,  and  our 
geograffy  when  it 's  on,  and  our  readin'  and  writin'  and 
the  American  Constitution  in  regular  hours,  and  then  we 
calkillate  to  git  up  and  git  afore  the  po'try  and  the  Bos- 
ton airs  and  graces  come  round.'  " 

The  "Sacramento  Transcript,"  of  June  ii,  1850,  tells 
a  story  about  a  minister  from  Pike  County  which  has  a 
similar  ring.  "  A  miner  took  sick  and  died  at  a  bar 
that  was  turning  out  very  rich  washings.  As  he  hap- 
pened to  be  a  favorite  in  the  camp,  it  was  determined 
to  have  a  general  turn-out  at  his  burial.  An  old  Pike 
County  preacher  was  engaged  to  officiate,  but  he  thought 
it  proper  to  moisten  his  clay  a  little  before  his  solemn 
duty.  The  parson  being  a  favorite,  and  the  grocery 
near  by,  he  partook  with  one  and  another  before  the  ser- 
vices began,  until  his  underpinning  became  quite  un- 
steady.  Presently  it  was  announced  that  the  last  sad 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  63 

rites  were  about  to  be  concluded,  and  our  clerical  friend 
advanced  rather  unsteadily  to  perform  the  functions  of 
his  office.  After  an  exordium  worthy  of  his  best  days, 
the  crowd  knelt  around  the  grave,  but  as  he  was  praying 
with  fervency  one  of  the  party  discovered  some  of  the 
shining  metal  in  the  dirt  thrown  from  the  grave,  and 
up  he  jumped  and  started  for  his  pan,  followed  by  the 
crowd.  The  minister,  opening  his  eyes  in  wonder  and 
seeing  the  game,  cried  out  for  a  share ;  his  claim  was 
recognized  and  reserved  for  him  until  he  should  get  sober. 
In  the  mean  time,  another  hole  was  dug  for  the  dead 
man,  that  did  not  furnish  a  like  temptation  to  disturb  his 
grave,  and  he  was  hurriedly  deposited  without  further 
ceremony." 

Bret  Harte's  best  and  noblest  character,  Tennessee's 
Partner,  might  have  been  from  Pike  County,  —  he  was 
of  that  kind  ;  and  Morse,  the  hero  of  the  story  called  In 
the  TuleSy  certainly  was  :  — 

"The  stranger  stared  curiously  at  him.  After  a  pause 
he  said  with  a  half-pitying,  half-humorous  smile  :  — 

"*  Pike  — aren't  you.?' 

"Whether  Morse  did  or  did  not  know  that  this  cur- 
rent California  slang  for  a  denizen  of  the  bucolic  West 
impHed  a  certain  contempt,  he  replied  simply  :  — 

"  *  I  'm  from  Pike  County,  Mizzouri.' " 

To  the  same  effect  is  the  historian:  "To  be  cata- 
logued as  from  Pike  County  seems  to  express  a  little 
more  churlishness,  a  little  more  rudeness,  a  greater  re- 
serve when  courtesy  or  hospitality  is  called  for  than  I 
ever  found  in  the  Western  character  at  home."  ^ 

The  type  thus  indicated  was  a  very  marked  one,  and 
was  often  spoken  of  with  astonishment  by  more  sophis- 
ticated Pioneers.  Some  of  these  Missouri  men  had  never 
seen  two  houses  together,  until  they  came  to  California, 
so  that  even  a  little  village  in  the  mines  appeared  to 

1  Eliza  W.  Famham,  "  California,  Indoors  and  Out." 


64  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

them  as  a  marvel  of  civilization  and  luxury.  Their  dress 
was  home-made  and  by  no  means  new  or  clean.  Over 
their  shoulders  they  wore  strips  of  cotton  or  cloth  as 
suspenders,  and  their  coats  were  tight-waisted,  long- 
tailed  surtouts  such  as  were  fashionable  in  the  eighteenth 
century.  Their  inseparable  companion  was  a  long-bar- 
relled rifle,  with  which  they  could  "  draw  a  bead  "  on  a 
deer  or  a  squirrel  or  the  white  of  an  Indian's  eye  with 
equal  coolness  and  certainty  of  killing. 

Bayard  Taylor  describes  the  same  type  as  he  met  it 
in  the  ship  which  carried  him  from  New  Orleans  to 
Panama  in  '49.  "Long,  loosely-jointed  men,  with  large 
hands,  and  awkward  feet  and  limbs ;  their  faces  long 
and  sallow;  their  hair  long,  straight  and  black;  their 
expression  one  of  settled  melancholy.  The  corners  of 
their  mouths  curved  downward,  and  their  upper  lips 
were  drawn  tightly  over  their  lower  ones,  thus  giving 
to  their  faces  that  look  of  ferocity  which  is  peculiar  to 
Indians.  These  men  chewed  tobacco  incessantly,  drank 
copiously,  were  heavily  armed  with  knives  and  pistols, 
and  breathed  defiance  to  all  foreigners."  ^ 

These  long,  sallow-faced  men  were  probably  sufferers 
from  that  fever  and  ague,  or  malaria,  as  we  now  call  it, 
which  was  rife  in  all  the  "  bottom  lands  "  of  the  Western 
States ;  and  the  greater  part  of  Pike  County  was  included 
in  that  category.  Much,  indeed,  of  the  emigration  from 
Missouri  and  Illinois  to  California  was  inspired  less  by 
the  love  of  gold  than  by  the  desire  to  escape  from  disease. 
Bret  Harte,  in  many  places,  speaks  of  these  fever-ridden 
Westerners,  especially  in  An  Apostle  of  the  TuleSy 
where  he  describes  a  camp-meeting,  attended  chiefly  by 
"  the  rheumatic  Parkinsons,  from  Green  Springs ;  the 
ophthalmic  Filgees,  from  Alder  Creek;  the  ague- 
stricken  Harveys,  from  Martinez  Bend ;  and  the  feeble- 
limbed  Steptons,  from  Sugar  Mill."  "These,"  he  adds, 

1  Bayard  Taylor,  "  El  Dorado." 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  65 

"might  in  their  combined  families  have  suggested  a 
hospital,  rather  than  any  other  social  assemblage." 

But  these  sickly  or  ague-smitten  people  formed  only  a 
small  part  of  the  Pioneers.  The  greater  number  repre- 
sented the  youth  and  strength  of  both  the  Western  and 
Eastern  States.  In  1852,  an  interior  newspaper  called 
the  "San  Andreas  Independent  "  declared,  "We  have  a 
population  made  up  from  the  most  energetic  of  the  civi- 
lized earth's  population";  and  the  boast  was  true. 

Moreover,  the  Pioneers  who  reached  California  had  been 
winnowed  and  sifted  by  the  hardships  and  privations 
which  beset  both  the  land  and  the  sea  route.  Thousands 
of  the  weaker  among  them  had  succumbed  to  starvation 
or  disease,  and  their  bones  were  whitening  the  Plains  or 
lying  in  the  vast  depths  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  There  was 
scarcely  a  village  in  the  West  or  South,  or  even  in  New 
England,  which  did  not  mourn  the  loss  of  some  brave 
young  gold-seeker  whose  unknown  fate  was  a  matter  of 
speculation  for  years  afterward. 

The  length  of  the  voyage  from  Atlantic  ports  to  San 
Francisco  was  from  four  to  five  months,  but  most  of  the 
Pioneers  who  came  by  sea  avoided  the  passage  around 
Cape  Horn,  and  crossed  the  Isthmus  of  Nicaragua,  or, 
more  commonly,  of  Panama.  This,  in  either  case,  was  a 
much  shorter  route ;  but  it  added  the  horrors  of  pesti- 
lence and  fever,  and  of  possible  robbery  and  murder,  to 
the  ordinary  dangers  of  the  sea.  All  the  blacklegs,  it 
was  noticed,  took  the  shorter  route,  deeming  themselves, 
no  doubt,  incapable  of  sustaining  the  prolonged  ennui 
of  a  voyage  around  the  Cape.  Passengers  who  crossed 
the  Isthmus  of  Panama  disembarked  at  Chagres,  a  port 
so  unhealthy  that  policies  of  life  insurance  contained  a 
clause  to  the  effect  that  if  the  insured  remained  there 
more  than  one  night,  his  policy  would  be  void.  Chagres 
enjoyed  the  distinction  of  being  the  dirtiest  place  in  the 
world.  The  inhabitants  were  almost  all  negroes,  and  one 


66  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Pioneer  declared  that  a  flock  of  buzzards  would  present 
a  favorable  comparison  with  them. 

From  Chagres  there  was,  first,  a  voyage  of  seventy- 
five  miles  up  the  river  of  the  same  name  to  Gorgona,  or 
to  Cruces,  five  miles  farther.  This  was  accomplished  in 
dugouts  propelled  by  the  native  Indians.  Thence  to  Pan- 
ama the  Pioneers  travelled  on  foot,  or  on  mule-back,  over 
a  narrow,  winding  bridle-path  through  the  mountains,  so 
overhung  by  trees  and  dense  tropical  growths  that  in 
many  places  it  was  dark  even  at  mid-day. 

This  was  the  opportunity  of  the  Indian  muleteer,  and 
more  than  one  gold-seeker  never  emerged  from  the 
gloomy  depths  of  that  winding  trail.  Originally,  it  was 
the  work  of  the  Indians ;  but  the  Spaniards  who  used 
the  path  in  the  sixteenth  century  had  improved  it,  and 
in  many  places  had  secured  the  banks  with  stones.  Now, 
however,  the  trail  had  fallen  into  decay,  and  in  spots  was 
almost  impassable.  But  the  tracks  worn  in  the  soft,  cal- 
careous rock  by  the  many  iron-shod  hoofs  which  had 
passed  over  it,  still  remained ;  and  the  mule  that  bore 
the  American  seeking  gold  in  California  placed  his  feet 
in  the  very  holes  which  had  been  made  by  his  predeces- 
sors, painfully  bearing  the  silver  of  Peru  on  its  way  to 
enrich  the  grandees  of  Spain. 

Bad  as  the  journey  across  the  Isthmus  was  or  might 
be,  the  enforced  delay  at  Panama  was  worse.  The  num- 
ber of  passengers  far  exceeded  the  capacity  of  the  ves- 
sels sailing  from  that  port  to  San  Francisco,  and  those 
who  waited  at  Panama  were  in  constant  danger  of  chol- 
era, of  the  equally  dreaded  Panama  fever,  and  sometimes 
of  smallpox.  The  heat  was  almost  unbearable,  and  the 
blacks  were  a  source  of  annoyance,  and  even  of  danger. 
"There  is  not  in  the  whole  world,"  remarked  a  contem- 
porary San  Francisco  paper,  "  a  more  infamous  collection 
of  villains  than  the  Jamaica  negroes  who  are  congregated 
at  Panama  and  Chagres." 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  67 

In  their  eagerness  to  get  away  from  Panama,  some 
Pioneers  paid  in  advance  for  transportation  in  old  rotten 
hulks  which  were  never  .expected  or  intended  to  reach 
San  Francisco,  but  which,  springing  a  leak  or  being  other- 
wise disabled,  would  put  into  some  port  in  Lower  Cali- 
fornia where  the  passengers  would  be  left  without  the 
means  of  continuing  their  journey,  and  frequently  with- 
out money. 

Both  on  the  voyage  from  Panama  and  also  on  the  long 
route  around  Cape  Horn,  ship-captains  often  saved  their 
good  provisions  for  the  California  market,  and  fed  their 
passengers  on  nauseous  **lobscouse  "  and  "  dunderfunk." 
Scurvy  and  other  diseases  resulted.  An  appeal  to  the 
United  States  consul  at  Rio  Janeiro,  when  the  ship 
touched  there,  was  sometimes  effectual,  and  in  other 
cases  the  passengers  took  matters  into  their  own  hands 
and  disciplined  a  rapacious  captain  or  deposed  a  drunken 
one.  In  view  of  these  uprisings,  some  New  York  skippers 
declined  to  take  command  of  ships  about  to  sail  for 
California,  supposing  that  passengers  who  could  do  such 
an  unheard-of  thing  as  to  rebel  against  the  master  of  a 
vessel  must  be  a  race  of  pirates.  Great  pains  were  taken 
to  secure  a  crew  of  determined  men  for  these  ships,  and 
a  plentiful  supply  of  muskets,  handcuffs  and  shackles  was 
always  put  on  board.  But  such  precautions  proved  to  be 
ridiculously  unnecessary.  There  was  no  case  in  which 
the  Pioneers  usurped  authority  on  shipboard  without  suf- 
ficient cause ;  and  in  no  case  was  an  emigrant  brought 
to  trial  on  reaching  San  Francisco. 

In  the  various  ports  at  which  they  stopped  much  was 
to  be  seen  of  foreign  peoples  and  customs ;  and  not  in- 
frequently the  Pioneers  had  an  opportunity  to  show  their 
mettle.  At  Santa  Catharina,  for  example,  a  port  on  the 
lower  coast  of  Brazil,  a  young  American  was  murdered 
by  a  Spaniard.  The  authorities  were  inclined  to  treat  the 
matter  with  great  indifference;  but  there  happened  to 


68  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

be  in  the  harbor  two  ship-loads  of  passengers  en  route  for 
San  Francisco,  and  these  men  threatened  to  seize  the 
fortress  and  demolish  it  if  justice  was  not  done.  There- 
upon the  murderer  was  tried  and  hung.  Many  South 
Americans  in  the  various  ports  along  the  coast  got  their 
first  correct  notion  of  the  people  of  the  United  States 
from  these  chance  encounters  with  sea-going  Pioneers. 

Still  more,  of  course,  was  the  overland  journey  an 
education  in  self-reliance,  in  that  resourcefulness  which 
distinguishes  the  American,  and  in  that  courage  which 
was  so  often  needed  and  so  abundantly  displayed  in  the 
early  mining  days.  Independence  in  the  State  of  Mis- 
souri was  a  favorite  starting-point,  and  from  this  place 
there  were  two  routes,  the  southern  one  being  by  way  of 
Santa  F^,  and  the  northern  route  following  the  Oregon 
Trail  to  Fort  Hall,  and  thence  ascending  the  course  of 
the  Humboldt  River  to  its  rise  in  the  Sierra  Nevadas. 

At  Fort  Hall  some  large  companies  which  had  trav- 
elled from  the  Mississippi  River,  and  even  from  States 
east  of  that,  separated,  one  half  going  to  Oregon,  the 
other  turning  westward  to  California;  and  thus  were 
broken  many  ties  of  love  and  friendship  which  had  been 
formed  in  the  close  intimacy  of  the  long  journey,  espe- 
cially between  the  younger  members  of  the  company. 
Old  diaries  and  letters  reveal  suggestions  of  romance  if 
not  of  tragedy  in  these  separations,  and  in  the  choice 
which  the  emigrant  maiden  was  sometimes  forced  to 
make  between  the  conflicting  claims  of  her  lover  and  her 
parents. 

In  the  year  1850  fifty  thousand  crossed  the  Plains. 
In  185 1  immigration  fell  off  because  even  at  that  early  date 
there  was  a  business  "  depression,"  almost  a  "panic"  in 
California,  but  in  1852  it  increased  again,  and  the  Plains 
became  a  thoroughfare,  dotted  so  far  as  the  eye  could 
see  with  long  trains  of  white-covered  wagons,  moving 
slowly  through  the  dust.    In  one  day  a  party  from  Vir- 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  69 

ginia  passed  thirty-two  wagons,  and  during  a  stop  in  the 
afternoon  five  hundred  overtook  them.  In  after  years  the 
course  of  these  wagons  could  easily  be  traced  by  the 
alien  vegetation  which  marked  it.  Wherever  the  heavy 
wheels  had  broken  the  tough  prairie  sod  there  sprang 
up,  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Sierras,  a  narrow  belt  of 
flowering  plants  and  familiar  door-yard  weeds,  —  silent 
witnesses  of  the  great  migration  which  had  passed  that 
way.  Multitudes  of  horsemen  accompanied  the  wagons, 
and  other  multitudes  plodded  along  on  foot.  Banners  were 
flying  here  and  there,  and  the  whole  appearance  was  that 
of  an  army  on  the  march.  At  night  camp-fires  gleamed 
for  miles  through  the  darkness,  and  if  the  company  were 
not  exhausted  the  music  of  a  violin  or  a  banjo  floated  out 
on  the  still  air  of  the  prairies.  But  the  fatigue  of  the 
march,  supplemented  by  the  arduous  labors  of  camping 
out,  was  usually  sufficient  to  send  the  travellers  to  bed  at 
the  earliest  possible  moment. 

The  food  consisted  chiefly  of  salt  pork  or  bacon,  — 
varied  when  that  was  possible  with  buffalo  meat  or 
venison, — beans,  baked  dough  called  bread,  and  flapjacks. 
The  last,  always  associated  with  mining  life  in  California, 
were  made  by  mixing  flour  and  water  into  a  sort  of  bat- 
ter, seasoning  with  salt,  adding  a  little  saleratus  or  cook- 
ing soda,  and  frying  the  mixture  in  a  pan  greased  with 
fat.  Men  ate  enormously  on  these  journeys.  Four  hun- 
dred pounds  of  sugar  lasted  four  Pioneers  only  ninety 
days.  This  inordinate  appetite  and  the  quantity  of  salt 
meat  eaten  frequently  resulted  in  scurvy,  from  which 
there  were  some  deaths.  Another  cause  of  illness  was 
the  use  of  milk  from  cows  driven  along  with  the  wagon- 
trains,  and  made  feverish  by  heat  and  fatigue. 

Many  of  the  emigrants,  especially  those  who  undertook 
the  journey  in  '49  or  '50,  were  insufficiently  equipped, 
and  little  aware  of  the  difficulties  and  dangers  which 
awaited  them.  Death  in  many  forms  hovered  over  those 


70  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

heavy,  creaking,  canvas-covered  wagons — the  "prairie- 
schooners,"  which,  drawn  sometimes  by  horses,  some- 
times by  oxen,  sometimes  by  mules,  jolted  slowly  and 
laboriously  over  two  thousand  miles  and  more  of  plain 
and  mountain, — death  from  disease,  from  want  of  water, 
from  starvation,  from  Indians,  and,  in  crossing  the  Sier- 
ras, from  raging  snow-storms  and  intense  cold.  Rivers 
had  to  be  forded,  deserts  crossed  and  a  thousand  acci- 
dents and  annoyances  encountered. 

Some  men  made  the  long  journey  on  foot,  even  from 
points  east  of  the  Mississippi  River.  One  gray-haired 
Pioneer  walked  all  the  way  from  Michigan  with  a  pack 
on  his  back.  Another  enthusiast  obtained  some  notoriety 
among  the  emigrants  of  1850  by  trundling  a  wheelbarrow, 
laden  with  his  goods,  from  Illinois  to  Salt  Lake  City. 

Bret  Harte,  as  we  have  seen,  reached  California  by 
sea,  and  there  is  no  record  of  any  journey  by  ox-cart  that 
he  made  ;  and  yet  in  A  Waif  of  the  Plains  he  describes 
such  a  journey  with  a  particularity  which  seems  almost 
impossible  for  one  who  knew  it  only  by  hearsay.  Thus, 
among  many  other  details,  he  speaks  of  "  a  chalky  taste 
of  dust  on  the  mouth  and  lips,  a  gritty  sense  of  earth  on 
the  fingers,  and  an  all-pervading  heat  and  smell  of  cattle." 
And  in  the  same  description  occurs  one  of  those  minute 
touches  for  which  he  is  remarkable  :  "  The  hoofs  of 
the  draught-oxen,  occasionally  striking  in  the  dust  with 
a  dull  report,  sent  little  puffs  like  smoke  on  either  side 
of  the  track." 

Often  the  cattle  would  break  loose  at  night  and  dis- 
appear on  the  vast  Plains,  and  men  in  search  of  them 
were  sometimes  lost,  and  died  of  starvation  or  were  killed 
by  Indians.  Simply  for  the  sake  of  better  grazing  oxen 
have  been  known  to  retrace  their  steps  at  night  for 
twenty-five  miles. 

The  opportunities  for  selfishness,  for  petulance,  for 
obstinacy,   for   resentment   were   almost    innumerable. 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  71 

Cooking  and  washing  were  the  labors  which,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  women,  proved  most  vexatious  to  the  emigrants. 
"  Of  all  miserable  work,"  said  one,  "washing  is  the  worst, 
and  no  man  who  crossed  the  Plains  will  ever  find  fault 
again  with  his  wife  for  scolding  on  a  washing  day."  All 
the  Pioneers  who  have  related  their  experiences  on  the 
overland  journey  speak  of  the  bad  effect  on  men's  tem- 
pers. "  The  perpetual  vexations  and  hardships  keep  the 
nerves  in  a  state  of  great  irritability.  The  trip  is  a  sort 
of  magic  mirror,  exposing  every  man's  qualities  of  heart, 
vicious  or  amiable."  ^ 

The  shooting  affairs  which  occurred  among  the  emi- 
grants were  usually  the  result  of  some  sudden  provoca- 
tion, following  upon  a  long  course  of  irritation  between 
the  persons  concerned.  Those  who  crossed  the  Plains  in 
the  summer  of  1853,  or  afterward,  might  have  passed  a 
grave  with  this  inscription  : 

BEAL  SHOT  BY  BOLSBY,  JUNE  .5,  1853. 

And,  a  day's  journey  further,  they  would  have  noticed 
another  grave  thus  inscribed  : 

BOLSBY  SHOT  FOR  THE  MURDER  OF  BEAL,  JUNE  16,  1853. 

This  murder,  to  call  it  such,  was  the  consequence  of 
some  insult  offered  to  Bolsby  by  the  other.  Bolsby  was 
forthwith  tried  by  the  company,  and  condemned  to  be 
shot  the  next  morning  at  sunrise.  He  had  been  married 
only  about  a  year  before,  and  had  left  his  wife  and  child 
at  their  home  in  Kentucky.  For  the  remainder  of  the 
day  he  travelled  with  the  others,  and  the  short  hours  of 
the  summer  night  which  followed  were  spent  by  him  in 
writing  to  his  wife  and  to  his  father  and  mother.  Of  all 
the  great  multitude,  scattered  over  the  wide  earth,  who 
passed  that  particular  night  in  sleepless  agony  of  mind, 
perhaps  none   was   more  to  be  pitied.  When  morning 

1  Edwin  Bryant,  "  California." 


72  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

came  he  dressed  himself  neatly  in  his  wedding  suit,  and 
was  led  out  to  execution.  With  rare  magnanimity,  he 
acknowledged  that  his  sentence  was  a  just  one,  and  said 
that  he  had  so  written  to  his  family,  and  that  he  had  been 
treated  with  consideration ;  but  he  declared  that  if  the 
thing  were  to  happen  again,  he  would  kill  Beal  as  before. 
He  then  knelt  on  his  blanket,  gave  the  signal  for  shoot- 
ing, and  fell  dead,  pierced  by  six  bullets. 

The  misfortunes  of  the  Donner  party  began  with  a 
homicide.  This  is  the  party  whose  sufferings  are  de- 
scribed by  Bret  Harte  without  exaggeration  in  Gabriel 
Conroy.  It  included  robbers,  cannibals,  murderers  and 
heroes;  and  one  interesting  aspect  of  its  experience  is 
the  superior  endurance,  both  moral  and  physical,  shown 
by  the  women.  In  the  small  detachment  which,  as  a  for- 
lorn hope,  tried  to  cross  the  Mountains  in  winter  without 
provisions,  and  succeeded,  there  were  twelve  men  and 
five  women.  Of  the  twelve  men  five  died,  of  the  five 
women  none  died!^ 

Indians  were  often  encountered  on  the  Great  Plains 
and  in  the  valleys  of  the  Colorado  and  Rio  Grande.  They 
were  well-disposed,  at  first,  and  soon  acquired  some 
familiarity  with  the  ordinary  forms  of  speech  used  by 
the  Pioneers.  Thus  one  traveller  reports  the  following 
friendly  salutation  from  a  member  of  the  Snake  Tribe : 

"  How  de  do  —  Whoa  haw !  G — d  d — n  you ! " 

On  another  occasion  when  a  party  of  Pioneers  were 
inquiring  of  some  Indians  about  a  certain  camping- 
ground  ahead  of  them,  they  were  assured  that  there 
would  be  "plenty  of  grass  there  for  the  whoa  haws,  but 
no  water  for  the  g — d  d — ns." 

Later,  however,  owing  chiefly  to  unprovoked  attacks 

by  emigrants,  the  Indians  became  hostile  and  dangerous. 

Many  Pioneers  were  robbed  and  some  were  killed  by 

them.  The  Western  Indian  was  a  figure  at  once  grotesque 

»  See  Thornton's  "  Oregon  and  California  in  1848," 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  73 

and  terrible ;  and  Bret  Harte's  description  of  him,  as  he 
appeared  to  the  emigrant  boy  lost  on  the  Plains,  gives 
the  reader  such  a  pleasant  thrill  of  horror  as  he  may 
not  have  experienced  since  Robinson  Crusoe  made  his 
awful  discovery  of  a  human  footprint  in  the  sand. 

"  He  awoke  with  a  start.  A  moving  figure  had  sud- 
denly uplifted  itself  between  him  and  the  horizon !  .  .  . 
A  human  figure,  but  so  dishevelled,  so  fantastic,  and  yet 
so  mean  and  puerile  in  its  extravagance  that  it  seemed 
the  outcome  of  a  childish  dream.  It  was  a  mounted  fig- 
ure, yet  so  ludicrously  disproportionate  to  the  pony  it 
bestrode,  whose  slim  legs  were  stiffly  buried  in  the  dust 
in  a  breathless  halt,  that  it  might  have  been  a  straggler 
from  some  vulgar  wandering  circus.  A  tall  hat,  crown- 
less  and  brimless,  a  castaway  of  civilization,  surmounted 
by  a  turkey's  feather,  was  on  its  head ;  over  its  shoulders 
hung  a  dirty  tattered  blanket  that  scarcely  covered  the 
two  painted  legs  which  seemed  clothed  in  soiled  yellow 
hose.  In  one  hand  it  held  a  gun;  the  other  was  bent 
above  its  eyes  in  eager  scrutiny  of  some  distant  point. 
.  .  .  Presently,  with  a  dozen  quick  noiseless  strides  of  the 
pony's  legs,  the  apparition  moved  to  the  right,  its  gaze 
still  fixed  on  that  mysterious  part  of  the  horizon.  There 
was  no  mistaking  it  now  !  The  painted  Hebraic  face,  the 
large  curved  nose,  the  bony  cheek,  the  broad  mouth,  the 
shadowed  eyes,  the  straight  long  matted  locks !  It  was 
an  Indian  !"^ 

There  were  some  cases  of  captivity  among  the  Indians 
the  details  of  which  recall  the  similar  occurrences  in  New 
England  in  the  seventeenth  century.  Perhaps  the  most 
remarkable  case  was  that  of  Olive  Oatman,  a  young  girl 
from  Illinois,  who  was  carried  off  by  one  tribe  of  Indians, 
was  sold  later  to  another,  nearly  died  of  starvation,  and» 
finally,  after  a  lapse  of  six  years,  was  recovered  safe  and 
sound.  Her  brother,  a  boy  of  twelve,  was  beaten  with 

J  A  Waif  of  the  Plains. 


74  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

clubs  by  the  Indians,  and  left  for  dead  with  the  bodies 
of  his  father  and  mother ;  but  he  revived,  and  succeeded 
in  making  his  way  back  for  a  distance  of  seventy  miles, 
when  he  met  a  party  of  Pima  Indians,  who  treated  him 
with  kindness.  Forty-five  miles  of  that  lonely  journey 
lay  through  a  desert  where  no  water  could  be  obtained. 

Abner  Nott's  daughter,  Rosey,  the  attractive  heiress 
of  the  Pontiac,  was  made  of  the  same  heroic  stuff.  "  The 
Rosey  ez  I  knows,"  said  her  father,  "is  a  little  gal  whose 
voice  was  as  steady  with  Injuns  yellin*  round  her  nest 
in  the  leaves  on  Sweetwater  ez  in  her  purty  cabin  up 
yonder."  Lanty  Foster,  too,  was  of  "  that  same  pioneer 
blood  that  had  never  nourished  cravens  or  degenerates, 
.  .  .  whose  father's  rifle  had  been  levelled  across  her 
cradle,  to  cover  the  stealthy  Indian  who  prowled  out- 
side." 

It  was  from  these  Western  and  Southwestern  emi- 
grants that  Bret  Harte's  nobler  kind  of  woman,  and,  in 
most  cases,  of  man  also  was  drawn.  The  "great  West" 
furnished  his  heroic  characters,  —  California  was  only 
their  accidental  and  temporary  abiding -place.  These 
people  were  of  the  muscular,  farm  type,  with  such  health 
and  such  nerves  as  result  from  an  out-door  life,  from 
simple,  even  coarse  food,  from  early  hours  and  abundant 
sleep. 

The  Pioneer  women  did  indeed  lack  education  and  in- 
herited refinement,  as  Bret  Harte  himself  occasionally 
points  out.  "  She  brushed  the  green  moss  from  his 
sleeve  with  some  towelling,  and  although  this  operation 
brought  her  so  near  to  him  that  her  breath  —  as  soft  and 
warm  as  the  Southwest  trades — stirred  his  hair,  it  was 
evident  that  this  contiguity  was  only  frontier  familiarity, 
as  far  removed  from  conscious  coquetry  as  it  was  per- 
haps from  educated  delicacy."^ 

And  yet  it  is  very  easy  to  exaggerate  this  defect.  In 

1  When  the  Waters  Were  Up  at  ''Jules':' 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  75 

most  respects  the  wholesomeness,  the  democratic  sin- 
cerity and  dignity  of  Bret  Harte's  women,  and  of  his 
men  as  well,  give  them  the  substantial  benefits  of  gentle 
blood.  Thus  he  says  of  one  of  his  characters,  "  He  had 
that  innate  respect  for  the  secrets  of  others  which  is  as 
inseparable  from  simplicity  as  it  is  from  high  breeding;" 
and  this  remark  might  have  been  put  in  a  much  more 
general  form.  In  fact,  the  essential  similarity  between 
simplicity  and  high  breeding  runs  through  the  whole 
nature  of  Bret  Harte's  Pioneers,  and  perhaps,  moreover, 
explains  some  obscure  points  in  his  own  life. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  defects  of  Bret  Harte's  heroines 
relate  rather  to  the  ornamental  than  to  the  indispensable 
part  of  life,  whereas  the  qualities  in  which  they  excel  are 
those  fundamental  feminine  qualities  upon  which,  in  the 
last  analysis,  is  founded  the  greatness  of  nations.  A  so- 
phisticated reader  would  be  almost  sure  to  underestimate 
them.  Even  that  English  critic  who  was  perhaps  his 
greatest  admirer,  makes  the  remark,  literally  true,  but 
nevertheless  misleading,  that  Bret  Harte  "  did  not  create 
a  perfectly  noble,  superior,  commanding  woman."  No, 
but  he  created,  or  at  least  sketched,  more  than  one  wo- 
man of  a  very  noble  type.  What  type  of  woman  is  most 
valuable  to  the  world  ?  Surely  that  which  is  fitted  to 
become  the  mother  of  heroes;  and  to  that  type  Bret 
Harte's  best  women  belong.  They  have  courage,  tender- 
ness, sympathy,  the  power  of  self-sacrifice;  they  have 
even  that  strain  of  fierceness  which  seems  to  be  insepar- 
able in  man  or  beast  from  the  capacity  for  deep  affection. 
They  have  the  independence,  the  innocent  audacity,  the 
clear  common-sense,  the  resourcefulness,  typical  of  the 
American  woman,  and  they  have,  besides,  a  depth  of 
feeling  which  is  rather  primeval  than  American,  which 
certainly  is  not  a  part  of  the  typical  American  woman  as 
we  know  her  in  the  Eastern  States. 

Perhaps  the  final  test  of  nobility  in  man  or  woman  is 


76  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

the  capacity  to  value  somethings  be  it  honor,  affection,  or 
what  you  will,  be  it  almost  anything,  but  to  value  some- 
thing more  than  life  itself;  and  this  is  the  characteristic 
of  Bret  Harte's  heroines.  They  are  as  ready  to  die  for 
love  as  Juliet  was,  and  along  with  this  abandon  they  have 
the  coolness,  the  independence,  the  practical  faculty, 
which  belong  to  their  time  and  race,  but  which  were 
not  a  part  of  woman's  nature  in  the  age  that  produced 
Shakspere's  "unlessoned  girl." 

Bret  Harte's  heroines  have  a  strong  family  resem- 
blance to  those  of  both  Tourgueneff  and  Thomas  Hardy. 
In  each  case  the  women  obey  the  instinct  of  love  as  un- 
reservedly as  men  of  an  archaic  type  obey  the  instinct  of 
fighting.  There  is  no  question  with  them  of  material 
advantage,  of  wealth,  position,  or  even  reputation.  Such 
considerations,  so  familiar  to  women  of  the  world,  never 
enter  their  minds.  They  love  as  nature  prompts,  and 
having  once  given  their  love,  they  give  themselves  and 
everything  that  they  have  along  with  it.  There  is  a  mag- 
nificent forgetfulness  of  self  about  them.  This  is  the  way 
of  nature.  Nature  never  counts  the  cost,  never  hoards 
her  treasures,  but  pours  them  out,  to  live  or  die  as  the 
case  may  be,  with  a  profusion  which  makes  the  human 
by-stander — economical,  poverty-stricken  man — stand 
aghast.  In  Russia  this  type  of  woman  is  frequently  found, 
as  Tourgueneff,  and  to  a  lesser  degree  Tolstoi,  found  her 
among  the  upper  classes,  which  have  retained  a  pristine 
quality  long  since  bred  out  of  the  corresponding  classes 
in  England  and  in  the  United  States.  For  women  of  the 
same  type  in  England,  Thomas  Hardy  is  forced  to  look 
lower  down  in  the  social  scale;  and  this  probably  ac- 
counts for  the  fact  that  his  heroines  are  seldom  drawn 
from  the  upper  classes. 

Women  of  this  kind  sometimes  fail  in  point  of  chas- 
tity, but  it  is  a  failure  due  to  impulse  and  affection,  not 
to  mere  frivolity  or  sensuality.  After  all,  chastity  is  only 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  77 

one  of  the  virtues  that  women  owe  to  themselves  and  to 
the  race.  The  chaste  woman  who  coldly  marries  for 
money  is,  as  a  rule,  morally  inferior  to  the  unchaste  wo- 
man who  gives  up  everything  for  love. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  however,  that  Bret  Harte's  wo- 
men do  not  need  this  defence,  for  his  heroines,  with 
the  single  exception  of  the  faithful  Higgles,  are  virtuous. 
The  only  loose  women  in  Bret  Harte's  stories  are  the 
obviously  bad  women,  the  female  "  villains  "  of  the  play, 
and  they  are  by  no  means  numerous.  Joan,  in  The  Ar- 
gonauts of  North  Liberty^  the  wives  of-  Brown  of  Cala- 
veras and  The  Bell-Ringer  of  Angel's,  respectively, 
the  cold-blooded  Mrs.  Decker,  and  Mrs.  Burroughs,  the 
pretty,  murderous,  feline  little  woman  in  A  Mercury  of 
the  Foot-Hills  —  these  very  nearly  exhaust  the  list.  On 
the  other  hand,  in  Thomas  Hardy  and  Tourgueneff,  to 
say  nothing  of  lesser  novelists,  it  is  often  the  heroine 
herself  who  falls  from  virtue.  Too  much  can  hardly  be 
made  of  the  moral  superiority  of  Bret  Harte's  stories  in 
this  respect.  It  is  due,  not  simply  to  his  own  taste  and 
preference,  but  to  the  actual  state  of  society  in  Cali- 
fornia, which,  in  this  respect  as  in  all  others,  he  faith- 
fully portrayed.  The  city  of  San  Francisco  might  have 
told  a  different  story  ;  but  in  the  mining  and  agricultural 
parts  of  the  State  the  standard  of  feminine  virtue  was 
high.  Perhaps  this  was  due,  in  part  at  least,  to  the  chiv- 
alry of  the  men  reacting  upon  the  women,  —  to  that 
feeling  which  Bret  Harte  himself  called  **the  Western- 
American  fetich  of  the  sanctity  of  sex,"  and, again,  "the 
innate  Far- Western  reverence  for  women." 

In  all  European  societies,  and  now,  to  a  lesser  degree, 
in  the  cities  of  the  United  States,  every  man  is,  generally 
speaking,  the  enemy  of  every  young  and  good-looking 
woman,  as  much  as  the  hunter  is  the  enemy  of  his  game. 
How  vast  is  the  difference  between  this  attitude  of  men 
to  women  and  that  which  Bret  Harte  describes !   The 


78  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

California  men,  as  he  says  somewhere,  "  thought  it  dis- 
honorable and  a  proof  of  incompetency  to  rise  by  their 
wives'  superior  fortune."  They  married  for  love  and  no- 
thing else,  and  their  love  took  the  form  of  reverence. 

The  complement  of  this  feeling,  on  the  woman's  side, 
is  a  maternal,  protecting  affection,  perhaps  the  noblest 
passion  of  which  women  are  capable ;  and  this  is  the 
kind  of  love  that  Bret  Harte's  heroines  invariably  show. 
No  mother  could  have  watched  over  her  child  more 
tenderly  than  Cressy  over  her  sweetheart.  The  cry  that 
came  from  the  lips  of  the  Rose  of  Tuolumne  when  she 
flew  to  the  rescue  of  her  bleeding  lover  was  "  the  cry  of 
a  mother  over  her  stricken  babe,  of  a  tigress  over  her 
mangled  cub." 

Bret  Harte's  heroines  are  almost  all  of  the  robust 
type.  A  companion  picture  to  the  Rose  is  that  of  Jinny 
in  the  story  When  the  Waters  Were  Up  at  ^' Jules .'' 
"  Certainly  she  was  graceful !  Her  tall,  lithe,  but 
beautifully  moulded  figure,  even  in  its  characteristic 
Southwestern  indolence,  fell  into  poses  as  picturesque 
as  they  were  unconscious.  She  lifted  the  big  molasses 
can  from  its  shelf  on  the  rafters  with  the  attitude  of  a 
Greek  water-bearer.  She  upheaved  the  heavy  flour  sack 
to  the  same  secure  shelf  with  the  upraised  palm  of  an 
Egyptian  caryatid." 

Trinidad  Joe's  daughter,  too,  was  large-limbed,  with 
blue  eyes,  black  brows  and  white  teeth.  It  was  of  her 
that  the  Doctor  said,  "  If  she  spoke  rustic  Greek  instead 
of  bad  English,  and  wore  a  cestus  instead  of  an  ill-fitting 
corset,  you  'd  swear  she  was  a  goddess." 

Something  more,  however,  goes  to  the  making  of  a 
handsome  woman  than  mere  health  and  muscle.  Bret 
Harte  often  speaks  of  the  sudden  appearance  of  beauty 
and  refinement  among  the  Western  and  Southwestern 
people.  Kitty,  for  example,  as  the  Reader  will  remem- 
ber, "was  slight,  graceful,  and  self-contained,  and  moved 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  79 

beside  her  stumpy  commonplace  father  and  her  faded 
commonplace  mother,  in  the  dining-room  of  the  Boom- 
ville  hotel,  like  some  distinguished  alien."  In  A  Vision 
of  the  Fountaifiy  Bret  Harte,  half  humorously,  suggested 
an  explanation.  He  speaks  of  the  hero  as  "  a  singularly 
handsome  young  fellow  with  one  of  those  ideal  faces 
and  figures  sometimes  seen  in  Western  frontier  villages, 
attributable  to  no  ancestor,  but  evolved  possibly  from 
novels  and  books  devoured  by  ancestresses  in  the  long, 
solitary  winter  evenings  of  their  lonely  cabins  on  the 
frontier."  ^ 

It  seems  more  likely,  however,  that  a  fortunate  envi- 
ronment is  the  main  cause  of  beauty,  a  life  free  from 
care  or  annoyance  ;  a  deep  sense  of  security  ;  that  feel- 
ing of  self-respect  which  is  produced  by  the  respect  of 
others,  and,  finally,  surroundings  which  have  either  the 
beauty  of  art  or  the  beauty  of  nature.  These  are  the 
very  advantages  which,  with  many  superficial  differences, 
no  doubt,  are  enjoyed  alike  by  the  daughters  of  fron- 
tiersmen and  by  the  daughters  of  a  nobility.  On  the 
other  hand,  they  are  the  very  advantages  with  which  the 
middle  class  in  cities,  the  cockney  class,  is  almost  always 
obliged  to  dispense,  and  that  class  is  conspicuously  de- 
ficient in  beauty.  Perhaps  no  one  thing  is  more  con- 
ducive to  beauty  than  the  absence  of  those  hideous 
creations  known  as  "social  superiors."  Imagine  a  society 
in  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  make  anybody  under- 
stand what  is  meant  by  the  word  "  snob "  !  And  yet 
such  was,  and  to  a  considerable  extent  still  is,  the  society 
of  the  Far  West  and  of  rural  New  England. 

Bret  Harte  himself  glanced  at  this  subject  in  describ- 
ing the  Blue-Grass  Penelope.  "  Beautiful  she  was,  but  the 
power  of  that  beauty  was  limited  by  being  equally  shared 

1  In  ^  First  Family  ofTasajara  he  gives  the  same  explanation  for  the 
beauty  of  Clementina,  which  is  described  as  "  hopelessly  and  even  wan- 
tonly inconsistent  with  her  surroundings." 


8o  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

with  her  few  neighbors.  There  were  small,  narrow,  arched 
feet  beside  her  own  that  trod  the  uncarpeted  floors  of 
outlying  cabins  with  equal  grace  and  dignity;  bright, 
clearly  opened  eyes  that  were  equally  capable  of  looking 
unabashed  upon  princes  and  potentates,  as  a  few  later 
did,  and  the  heiress  of  the  County  judge  read  her  own 
beauty  without  envy  in  the  frank  glances  and  unlowered 
crest  of  the  blacksmith's  daughter." 

No  less  obvious  is  the  connection  of  repose  with 
beauty.  Beauty  springs  up  naturally  among  people  who 
know  the  luxury  of  repose,  and  yet  are  vigorous  enough 
to  escape  the  dangers  of  sloth.  Salomy  Jane  was  lazy  as 
well  as  handsome,  and  when  we  first  catch  a  glimpse  of 
her  she  is  leaning  against  a  door-post,  engaged  in  the 
restful  occupation  of  chewing  gum.  The  same  repose, 
amounting  indeed  to  indolence,  formed  the  chief  charm 
of  Mr.  MacGlowrie's  Widow. 

Whether  or  not  the  landscape  plays  a  part  in  the  pro- 
duction of  womanly  beauty  is  a  question  more  open  to 
dispute.  Not  many  persons  feel  this  influence,  but,  as  ex- 
perience will  show,  the  proportion  of  country  people  who 
feel  it  is  greater  than  that  of  city  people,  although  they 
have  considerably  less  to  say  upon  the  subject.  The  wide, 
open  spaces,  the  distant  horizon,  the  gathering  of  storms, 
the  changing  green  of  Spring  and  Summer,  the  scarlet 
and  gold  of  Autumn,  the  vast  expanse  of  spotless  snow 
glistening  in  Midwinter,  —  these  things  must  be  seen 
by  the  countryman,  his  eyes  cannot  escape  them,  and  in 
some  cases  they  will  be  felt  as  well  as  seen.  Whoever  has 
travelled  a  New  England  country  road  upon  a  frosty, 
moonless  night  in  late  October,  and  has  observed  the 
Northern  Lights  casting  a  pale,  cold  radiance  through  the 
leafless  trees,  will  surely  detect  some  difference  between 
that  method  of  illumination  and  a  kerosene  lantern. 

A  New  England  farmer  whose  home  commanded  a 
noble  view  of  mountain,  lake  and  forest  was  blessed  with 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  8i 

two  daughters  noted  for  their  beauty.  They  grew  up  and 
married,  but  both  died  young;  and  many  years  after- 
ward he  was  heard  to  say,  as  he  looked  dreamily  out  from 
his  doorway,  *'  I  have  often  thought  that  the  reason  why 
my  girls  became  beautiful  women  was  that  from  their 
earliest  childhood  they  always  had  this  scene  before 
their  eyes."  And  yet  he  had  never  read  Wordsworth  or 
Ruskin  ! 

Bret  Harte's  heroines  enjoyed  all  the  advantages  just 
enumerated  as  being  conducive  to  beauty,  and  they  es- 
caped contamination  from  civilization.  They  were  close 
to  nature,  and  as  primitive  in  their  love-affairs  as  the 
heroines  of  Shakspere.  "  Who  ever  loved  that  loved  not 
at  first  sight! "  John  Ashe's  betrothed  and  Ridge  way  Dent 
had  known  each  other  a  matter  of  two  hours  or  so,  before 
they  exchanged  that  immortal  kiss  which  nearly  cost  the 
lives  of  both.  Two  brief  meetings,  and  one  of  those  in 
the  dark,  sufficed  to  win  for  the  brave  and  clever  young 
deputy  sheriff  the  affections  of  Lanty  Foster.  In  A  Jack 
and  Jill  of  the  Sierras^  a  handsome  girl  from  the  East 
tumbles  over  a  precipice,  and  falls  upon  the  recumbent 
hero,  part  way  down,  with  such  violence  as  to  stun  him. 
This  is  hardly  romantic,  but  the  dangerous  and  difficult 
ascent  which  they  make  together  furnishes  the  required 
opportunity.  Ten  minutes  of  cor^tiguity  suffice,  and  so 
well  is  the  girFs  character  indicated  by  a  few  masterly 
strokes,  that  the  reader  feels  no  surprise  at  the  result. 

And  yet  there  is  nothing  that  savors  of  coarseness, 
much  less  of  levity,  in  these  abrupt  romances.  When 
Bret  Harte's  heroes  and  heroines  meet,  it  is  the  coming 
together  of  two  souls  that  recognize  and  attract  each 
other.  It  is  like  a  stroke  of  lightning,  and  is  accepted 
with  a  primeval  simplicity  and  un-selfconsciousness.  The 
impression  is  as  deep  as  it  is  sudden. 

What  said  Juliet  of  the  anonymous  young  man  whom 
she  had  known  something  less  than  an  hour  ? 


82  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

"  Go,  ask  his  name :  if  he  be  marriM 
My  grave  is  like  to  be  my  wedding  bed." 

So  felt  Liberty  Jones  when  she  exclaimed  to  Dr.  Ruys- 
dael,  "  I  '11  go  with  you  or  I  '11  die  !  " 

It  is  this  sincerity  that  sanctifies  the  rapidity  and 
frankness  of  Bret  Harte's  love-affairs.  Genuine  passion 
takes  no  account  of  time,  and  supplies  by  one  instinctive 
rush  of  feeling  the  experience  of  years.  Given  the  right 
persons,  time  becomes  as  long  and  as  short  as  eternity. 
Thus  it  was  with  the  two  lovers  who  met  and  parted  at 
midnight  on  the  hilltop.  "  There  they  stood  alone.  There 
was  no  sound  or  motion  in  earth  or  woods  or  heaven. 
They  might  have  been  the  one  man  and  woman  for  whom 
this  goodly  earth  that  lay  at  their  feet,  rimmed  with  the 
deepest  azure,  was  created.  And  seeing  this  they  turned 
toward  each  other  with  a  sudden  instinct,  and  their  hands 
met,  and  then  their  lips  in  one  long  kiss." 

But  this  same  perfect  understanding  may  be  arrived 
at  in  a  crowd  as  well  as  in  solitude.  Cressy  and  the 
Schoolmaster  were  mutually  aware  of  each  other's  pre- 
sence at  the  dance  before  they  had  exchanged  a  look, 
and  when  their  eyes  met  it  was  in  "  an  isolation  as  su- 
preme as  if  they  had  been  alone." 

Could  any  country  in  the  world  except  our  own  pro- 
duce a  Cressy !  She  has  all  the  beauty,  much  of  the 
refinement,  and  all  the  subtle  perceptions  of  a  girl  be- 
longing to  the  most  sophisticated  race  and  class ;  and 
underneath  she  has  the  strong,  primordial,  spontaneous 
qualities,  the  wholesome  instincts,  the  courage,  the 
steadfastness  of  that  Pioneer  people,  that  religious,  fight- 
ing, much-enduring  people  to  whom  she  belonged. 

Cressy  is  the  true  child  of  her  father  ;  and  there  is  no- 
thing finer  in  all  Bret  Harte  than  his  description  of  this 
rough  backwoodsman,  ferocious  in  his  boundary  warfare, 
and  yet  full  of  vague  aspirations  for  his  daughter,  con- 
scious of  his  own  deficiencies,  and  oppressed  with  that 


THE  PIONEER  MEN  AND  WOMEN  83 

melancholy  which  haunts  the  man  who  has  outgrown 
the  ideals  and  conventions  of  his  youth.  Hiram  McKin- 
stry,  compared  with  the  masterful  Yuba  Bill,  the  pictur- 
esque Hamlin,  or  the  majestic  Starbottle,  is  not  an  im- 
posing figure ;  but  to  have  divined  him  was  a  greater 
feat  of  sympathetic  imagination  than  to  have  created 
the  others. 

It  is  characteristic,  too,  of  Bret  Harte  that  it  is  Cres- 
sy's  father  who  is  represented  as  acutely  conscious  of  his 
own  defects  in  education ;  whereas  her  mother  remains 
true  to  the  ancestral  type,  deeply  distrusting  her  hus- 
band's and  her  daughter's  innovations.  Mrs.  McKinstry, 
as  the  Reader  will  remember,  "  looked  upon  her  daugh- 
ter's studies  and  her  husband's  interest  in  them  as 
weaknesses  that  might  in  course  of  time  produce  infirm- 
ity of  homicidal  purpose  and  become  enervating  of  eye 
and  trigger  finger.  .  .  .  *The  old  man's  worrits  hev 
sorter  shook  out  a  little  of  his  sand,'  she  had  explained." 

Mr.  McKinstry,  on  the  other  hand,  had  almost  as 
much  devotion  to  "  Kam  "  as  Matthew  Arnold  had  to 
Culture,  and  meant  very  nearly  the  same  thing  by  it. 
Thus  he  said  to  the  Schoolmaster:  "*I  should  be  a  power- 
ful sight  more  kam  if  I  knowed  that  when  I  was  away 
huntin'  stock  or  fightin'  stakes  with  them  Harrisons  that 
she  was  a-settin'  in  school  with  the  other  children  and 
the  birds  and  the  bees,  listenin'  to  them  and  to  you. 
Mebbe  there 's  been  a  little  too  many  scrimmages  goin' 
on  round  the  ranch  sence  she  's  been  a  child ;  mebbe 
she  orter  know  sunthin'  more  of  a  man  than  a  feller 
who  sparks  her  and  fights  for  her.' 

"The  master  was  silent.  Had  this  selfish,  savage,  and 
literally  red-handed  frontier  brawler  been  moved  by 
some  dumb  instinct  of  the  power  of  gentleness  to  un- 
derstand his  daughter's  needs  better  than  he  ? " 

Alas  that  no  genius  has  arisen  to  write  the  epic  of  the 
West,  as  Hawthorne  and  Mary  Wilkins  and  Miss  Jewett 


84  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

have  written  the  epic  of  New  England !  Bret  Harte's 
stories  of  the  Western  people  are  true  and  striking,  but 
his  limitations  prevented  him  from  giving  much  more 
than  sketches  of  them.  They  are  not  presented  with 
that  fullness  which  is  necessary  to  make  a  figure  in  fic- 
tion impress  itself  upon  the  popular  imagination,  and 
become  familiar  even  to  people  who  have  never  read  the 
book  in  which  it  is  contained.  Cressy,  like  the  other 
heroines  of  Bret  Harte,  flits  across  the  scene  a  few 
times,  and  we  see  her  no  more.  Mrs.  McKinstry  is 
drawn  only  in  outline ;  and  yet  she  is  a  strong,  tragic 
figure,  of  a  type  now  extinct,  or  nearly  so,  as  powerful 
and  more  sane  than  Meg  Merrilies,  and  far  more  worthy 
of  a  permanent  place  in  literature. 


CHAPTER  VI 

PIONEER   LIFE 

To  be  successful  and  popular  among  the  Pioneers  was 
something  really  to  a  man's  credit.  Men  were  thrown 
upon  their  own  resources,  and,  as  in  Mediaeval  times, 
were  their  own  police  and  watchmen,  their  own  firemen, 
and  in  most  cases  their  own  judge  and  jury.  There  was 
no  distribution  of  the  inhabitants  into  separate  classes : 
they  constituted  a  single  class,  the  only  distinction  being 
that  between  individuals.  There  was  not  even  the  broad 
distinction  between  those  who  worked  with  their  heads 
and  those  who  worked  with  their  hands.  Everybody, 
except  the  gamblers,  performed  manual  labor ;  and  al- 
though this  condition  could  not  long  prevail  in  San 
Francisco  or  Sacramento,  it  continued  in  the  mines  for 
many  months.  In  fact,  any  one  who  did  not  live  by  ac- 
tual physical  toil  was  regarded  by  the  miners  as  a  social 
excrescence,  a  parasite.^ 

An  old  miner,  after  spending  a  night  in  a  San  Fran- 
cisco lodging  house,  paid  the  proprietor  with  gold  dust. 
While  waiting  for  his  change  he  seemed  to  be  studying 
the  keeper  of  the  house  as  a  novel  and  not  over-admir- 
able specimen  of  humanity.  Finally  he  inquired  of  him 
as  follows:  "Say,  now,  stranger,  do  you  do  nothing  else 
but  just  sit  there  and  take  a  dollar  from  every  man  that 
sleeps  in  these  beds.?"  "Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "that  is 
my  business."  "Well,  then,"  said  the  miner  after  a  little 

1  "  The  coarse,  the  homy-handed,  the  bull-throated  were  the  most  suc- 
cessful. They  set  the  fashion,  those  great  men  of  the  pickaxe  and  the  pis- 
tol, and  a  fine,  fire-eating,  antediluvian,  reckless  fashion  it  was."  —  W.  M. 
Fisher,  "  The  Calif omians." 


86  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

further  reflection,  "  it 's  a  damned  mean  way  of  making 
your  living  ;  that 's  all  I  can  say." 

Even  those  who  were  not  democratic  by  nature  be- 
came so  in  California.  All  men  felt  that  they  were,  at 
last,  free  and  equal.  Social  distinctions  were  rubbed  out. 
A  man  was  judged  by  his  conduct,  not  by  his  bank  ac- 
count, nor  by  the  set,  the  family,  the  club,  or  the  church 
to  which  he  belonged.^  All  former  records  were  wiped 
from  the  slate ;  and  nobody  inquired  whether,  in  order 
to  reach  California,  a  man  had  resigned  public  office  or 
position,  or  had  escaped  from  a  jail. 

"Some  of  the  best  men,"  says  Bret  Harte,  "had  the 
worst  antecedents,  some  of  the  worst  rejoiced  in  a  spot- 
less, Puritan  pedigree.  *  The  boys  seem  to  have  taken  a 
fresh  deal  all  round,'  said  Mr.  John  Oakhurst  one  day 
to  me,  with  the  easy  confidence  of  a  man  who  was  con- 
scious of  his  ability  to  win  my  money,  'and  there  is  no 
knowing  whether  a  man  will  turn  out  knave  or  king.'  " 

This,  perhaps,  sounds  a  little  improbable,  and  yet 
here,  as  always,  Bret  Harte  has  merely  stated  the  fact  as 
it  was.  One  of  the  most  accurate  contemporary  histori- 
ans says  :  "  The  man  esteemed  virtuous  at  home  be- 
comes profligate  here,  the  honest  man  dishonest,  and  the 
clergyman  sometimes  a  profane  gambler ;  while,  on  the 
contrary,  the  cases  are  not  few  of  those  who  were  idle  or 
profligate  at  home,  who  came  here  to  be  reformed.  "^ 

"  It  was  a  republic  of  incognitos.  No  one  knew  who 
any  one  else  was,  and  only  the  more  ill-mannered  and  un- 
easy even  desired  to  know.  Gentlemen  took  more  trouble 

1  How  long  this  continued  to  be  the  California  point  of  view  is  shown 
by  an  interesting  reminiscence  of  Professor  Royce's.  "  I  reached  twenty 
years  of  age  without  ever  becoming  clearly  conscious  of  what  was  meant 
by  judging  a  man  by  his  antecedents,  a  judgment  that  in  an  older  and  less 
isolated  community  is  natural  and  inevitable,  and  that,  I  think,  in  most 
of  our  Western  communities  grows  up  more  rapidly  than  it  has  grown 
up  in  California,  where  geographical  isolation  is  added  to  the  absence  of 
tradition." 

3  D.  B.  Woods,  "  Sixteen  Months  at  the  Gold  Diggings." 


IIIFil 


?m"^ 


PIONEER  LIFE  87 

to  conceal  their  gentility  than  thieves  living  in  South 
Kensington  would  take  to  conceal  their  blackguard- 
ism." 1 

"  Have  you  a  letter  of  introduction? "  wrote  a  Pioneer 
to  a  friend  in  the  East  about  to  sail  for  California.  "  If 
you  have,  never  present  it.  No  one  here  has  time  to 
read  such  things.  No  one  cares  even  to  know  your 
name.  If  you  are  the  right  sort  of  a  man,  everything 
goes  smoothly  here."  *'What  is  your  partner's  last 
name } "  asked  one  San  Francisco  merchant  of  another 
in  1850.  "Really,  I  don't  know,"  was  the  reply;  "we 
have  only  been  acquainted  three  or  four  weeks."  A 
miner  at  Maryville  once  offered  to  wager  his  old  blind 
mule  against  a  plug  of  tobacco  that  the  company,  al- 
though they  had  been  acquainted  for  some  years,  could 
not  tell  one  another's  names ;  and  this  was  found  upon 
trial  to  be  the  case. 

Men  were  usually  known,  as  Bret  Harte  relates,  by 
the  State  or  other  place  from  which  they  came,  —  with 
some  prefix  or  affix  to  denote  a  salient  characteristic. 
Thus  one  miner,  in  a  home  letter,  speaks  of  his  friends, 
"Big  Pike,  Little  Pike,  Old  Kentuck,  Little  York,  Big 
York,  Sandy,  and  Scotty."  Men  originally  from  the 
East,  and  long  supposed  to  be  dead,  turned  up  in  Cali- 
fornia, seeking  a  new  career.  In  fact,  there  seems  to 
have  been  a  general  inclination  among  the  Pioneers  to 
strike  out  in  new  directions.  "  To  find  a  man  here  engaged 
in  his  own  trade  or  profession,"  wrote  a  Forty-Niner, 
"is  a  rare  thing.  The  merchant  of  to-day  is  to-morrow 
a  doctor;  lawyers  turn  bankers,  and  bankers  lawyers. 
The  miners  are  almost  continually  on  the  move,  passing 
from  one  claim  to  another,  and  from  the  Southern  to  the 
Northern  mines,,  or  vice  versa." 

Bret  Harte  was  startled  by  meeting  an  old  acquaint- 
ance in  a  strange  situation.  "  At  my  first  breakfast  in  a 
1  G.  K.  Chesterton,  in  «  The  Critic." 


88  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

restaurant  on  Long  Wharf  I  was  haunted  during  the 
meal  by  a  shadowy  resemblance  which  the  waiter  who 
took  my  order  bore  to  a  gentleman  to  whom  in  my  boy- 
hood I  had  looked  up  as  to  a  mirror  of  elegance,  urban- 
ity, and  social  accomplishment.  Fearful  lest  I  should 
insult  the  waiter  —  who  carried  a  revolver  —  by  this 
reminiscence,  I  said  nothing  to  him  ;  but  a  later  inquiry 
of  the  proprietor  proved  that  my  suspicions  were  cor- 
rect. *  He's  mighty  handy,'  said  this  man,  *and  can  talk 
elegant  to  a  customer  as  is  waiting  for  his  cakes,  and 
make  him  kinder  forget  he  ain't  sarved.' " 

Bret  Harte  relates  another  case.  "An  Argonaut  just 
arriving  was  amazed  at  recognizing  in  the  boatman  who 
pulled  him  ashore,  and  who  charged  him  the  modest  sum 
of  fifty  dollars  for  the  performance,  a  classmate  at  Oxford. 
*Were  you  not,'  he  asked  eagerly,  *  Senior  Wrangler  in 
'43  ? '  *  Yes,'  said  the  other  significantly,  *  but  I  also  pulled 
stroke  against  Cambridge.' " 

A  Yale  College  professor  was  hauling  freight  with  a 
yoke  of  oxen;  a  Yale  graduate  was  selling  peanuts  on  the 
Plaza  at  San  Francisco ;  an  ex-governor  was  playing  the 
fiddle  in  a  bar-room ;  a  physician  was  washing  dishes  in  a 
hotel;  a  minister  was  acting  as  waiter  in  a  restaurant; 
a  lawyer  was  paring  potatoes  in  the  same  place.  Lawyers, 
indeed,  were  doing  a  great  deal  of  useful  work  in  Cali- 
fornia. One  kept  a  mush  and  milk  stand;  another  sold 
pies  at  a  crossing  of  the  American  River;  a  third  drove 
a  team  of  mules. 

John  A.  McGlynn,  one  of  the  best  known  and  most 
successful  Forty-Niners,  began  by  hitching  two  half- 
broken  mustangs  to  an  express  wagon,  and  acting  as 
teamster.  He  was  soon  chosen  to  enforce  the  rules  reg- 
ulating the  unloading  of  vessels  and  the  cartage  of  goods. 
All  the  drivers  obeyed  him,  except  one,  a  native  of  Chili, 
a  big,  powerful  man,  with  a  team  of  six  American  mules. 
McGlynn  ordered  him  into  line;  he  refused;  and  McGlynn 


PIONEER  LIFE  89 

struck  him  with  his  whip.  In  an  instant  both  men  had 
leaped  from  their  wagon-seats  to  the  ground.  The  Chileno 
rushed  at  McGlynn,  with  his  bowie-knife  in  his  hand;  but 
the  American  was  left-handed,  for  which  the  Chileno  was 
not  prepared;  and  with  his  first  blow  McGlynn  stretched 
his  antagonist  on  the  ground.  There  he  held  him  until 
the  fellow  promised  good  behavior.  On  regaining  his  feet 
the  defeated  man  invited  all  hands  to  drink,  and  became 
thenceforth  a  warm  friend  of  the  victor. 

The  judge  of  the  Court  for  Santa  Cruz  County  kept  a 
hotel,  and  after  court  adjourned,  he  would  take  off  his  coat 
and  wait  on  the  table,  serving  jurors,  attorneys,  criminals 
and  sheriffs  with  the  same  impartiality  which  he  exhibited 
on  the  bench.  A  brief  term  of  service  as  waiter  in  a  San 
Francisco  restaurant  laid  the  foundation  of  the  highly 
successful  career  of  another  lawyer,  a  very  young  man. 
One  day  a  merchant  upon  whom  he  was  waiting  remarked 
to  a  companion :  "If  I  only  had  a  lawyer  who  was  worth 
a  damn,  I  could  win  that  suit."  "I  am  a  lawyer,"  inter- 
posed the  waiter,  "and  I  am  looking  for  a  chance  to  get 
into  business.  Try  me."  The  merchant  did  so;  the  suit 
was  won;  and  the  former  waiter  was  soon  in  full  legal 
practice. 

Acquaintances  were  formed,  and  the  beginning  of  a 
fortune  was  often  made,  by  chance  meetings  and  incidents. 
Men  got  at  one  another  more  quickly  than  is  possible  in 
an  old  and  conservative  society.  One  who  became  a  dis- 
tinguished citizen  of  California  began  his  career  by  accept- 
ing an  offer  of  humble  employment  when  he  stepped  into 
the  street  on  his  first  morning  in  San  Francisco.  "  Look 
here,  my  friend,"  said  a  merchant  to  him,  "if  you  won't 
get  mad  about  it,  I  '11  offer  you  a  dollar  to  fill  this  box  with 
sand."  "Thank  you,"  said  the  young  fellow,  "I'll  fill  it 
all  day  long  on  those  terms,  and  never  become  angry  in 
the  least."  He  filled  the  box,  and  received  payment. 
"Now,"  he  said,  "we'll  go  and  take  a  drink  with  this 


go  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

dollar."  The  merchant  acquiesced  with  a  laugh,  and  thus 
began  a  life-long  connection  between  the  two  men. 

There  were  some  recognitions  of  old  acquaintances  as 
remarkable  as  the  making  of  new  friends.  Two  brothers, 
Englishmen  from  the  Society  Islands,  met  in  a  mining 
town,  and  were  not  aware  of  their  relationship  until  a 
chance  conversation  between  them  disclosed  it.  A  mer- 
chant from  Cincinnati  arrived  in  San  Francisco  with  the 
intention  of  settling  there.  One  of  the  first  persons  whom 
he  met  was  a  prosperous  business  man  who  had  absconded 
some  years  before  with  ten  thousand  dollars  of  his  money. 
He  recovered  the  ten  thousand  dollars  and  interest,  with- 
out making  the  matter  public,  and  went  back  to  Ohio  well 
satisfied. 

A  lawyer  of  note  in  San  Francisco  remarked,  in  1850, 
that  the  last  time  he  saw  Ned  McGowan,  previous  to  his 
arrival  in  California,  McGowan  stood  in  the  criminal  dock 
of  a  Philadelphia  court  where  he  was  receiving  a  sentence 
to  the  State  prison  for  robbery.  Subsequently  he  was 
pardoned  by  the  Governor  of  Pennsylvania,  on  condition 
that  he  should  leave  the  State.  When  this  lawyer  settled 
in  San  Francisco,  he  was  employed  to  defend  some  per- 
sons who  had  been  arrested  for  drunkenness ;  and  upon 
entering  the  court  room  he  was  thunderstruck  by  the 
appearance  of  the  magistrate  upon  the  bench.  After  a 
careful  survey  of  the  magistrate  and  a  pinch  of  the  flesh 
to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  dreaming,  he  exclaimed:  — 

"Ned  McGowan,  is  that  you.?'* 

"It  is,"  was  the  cool  reply. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  the  lawyer,  turning  to  his 
clients,  "you  had  better  toll  down  heavy,  for  I  can  do  you 
no  good  with  such  a  judge."  Tolling  down  heavy  was 
probably  a  practice  which  the  judge  encouraged,  for,  a 
year  later,  upon  the  organization  of  the  Vigilance  Com- 
mittee, Ned  McGowan  fled  from  San  Francisco,  if  not 
from  California. 


PIONEER  LIFE  91 

California,  from  1849  to  1858,  was  a  meeting  ground 
for  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.  One  of  the  first  acts  of 
the  Legislature  was  to  appoint  an  official  translator.  The 
confusion  of  languages  resulted  in  many  misunderstand- 
ings and  some  murders.  A  Frenchman  and  a  German 
at  Moquelumne  Hill  had  a  controversy  about  a  water- 
privilege,  and  being  unable  to  understand  each  other, 
they  resorted  first  to  pantomime,  and  then  to  fire- 
arms, with  the  unfortunate  result  that  the  German  was 
killed. 

A  trial  which  occurred  at  San  Jose  illustrates  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  tongues  in  California.  A  Spaniard  accused  a 
Tartar  of  assaulting  him,  but  as  the  Tartar  and  his  wit- 
nesses could  not  speak  English  the  proceedings  were 
delayed.  At  last  another  Tartar,  called  Arghat,  was 
found  who  could  speak  Chinese,  and  then  a  Chinaman, 
called  Alab,  who  could  speak  Spanish ;  and  with  these 
as  interpreters  the  trial  began.  Another  difficulty  then 
arose,  namely,  the  swearing  of  the  witnesses.  The  court, 
having  ascertained  that  the  Tartar  mode  of  swearing  is 
by  lifting  a  lighted  candle  toward  the  sun,  adopted  that 
form.  The  judge  administered  the  ordinary  oath  to  the 
English  and  Spanish  interpreters  ;  the  latter  then  swore 
Arghat  as  Tartar  and  Chinese  interpreter,  and  he,  in 
turn,  swore  Alab,  by  the  burning  candle  and  the  sun,  as 
Chinese  and  Spanish  interpreter ;  and  the  trial  then  pro- 
ceeded in  four  languages. 

The  first  newspaper  was  printed  half  in  English,  half 
in  Spanish.  Sermons  were  preached  by  Catholic  priests 
both  in  English  and  in  Spanish.  The  Fourth  of  July  was 
celebrated  at  San  Jos6  in  1850  by  one  oration  in  Eng- 
lish and  another  in  Spanish.  German  and  Italian  weekly 
papers  were  published  in  San  Francisco.  The  French 
population  of  the  city  was  especially  large.  They  made 
rouge-et-noir  the  fashion.  "Where  there  are  French- 
men," remarks  a  Pioneer,  "you  will  find  music,  singing 


92  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

and  gayety."  A  French  benevolent  society  was  estab- 
lished at  San  Francisco  in  185 1. 

Many  of  the  best  citizens  of  California  were  English- 
men. There  was  a  famous  ale-house  in  San  Francisco, 
called  the  Boomerang,  where  sirloins  of  beef  could  be 
washed  down  with  English  ale,  and  followed  by  Stilton 
cheese;  where  the  London  *' Times,"  "Punch"  and 
"Bell's  Life"  were  taken  in. 

Australia  and  New  South  Wales  contributed  a  consid- 
erable and  by  no  means  the  best  part  of  the  population. 
The  "Sydney  Ducks'*  who  infested  the  dark  lanes  and 
alleys  of  San  Francisco,  and  lurked  about  the  wharves  at 
night,  lived  mainly  by  robbery ;  and  they  often  murdered 
in  order  to  rob.  An  English  traveller  said  of  them :  "  I 
have  seen  vice  in  almost  every  form,  and  under  almost 
every  condition  in  the  Old  World,  but  never  did  it  appear 
to  me  in  so  repulsive  and  disgusting  a  shape  as  it  exists 
among  the  lower  orders  of  Sydney,  and  generally  in  New 
South  Wales."  1 

But  not  all  of  the  immigrants  from  English  colonies 
were  of  this  character.  Many  were  respectable  men,  and 
succeeded  well  in  California.  An  Australian  cabman,  for 
example,  brought  a  barouche,  a  fine  pair  of  horses,  a  tall 
hat  and  a  livery  coat  all  the  way  across  the  Pacific,  and 
made  a  fortune  by  hiring  out  at  the  rate  of  twenty  dollars 
an  hour. 

There  were  many  Jews  in  San  Francisco,  but  none  in 
the  mines;  —  they  alone  of  all  the  nations  gathered  in 
California  kept  to  their  ordinary  occupations,  chiefly  the 
selling  of  clothes,  and  never  looked  for  gold.  Even  their 
dress  did  not  change.  "They  are,"  writes  a  Pioneer, 
"  exactly  the  same  unwashed-looking,  slobbery,  slipshod 
individuals  that  one  sees  in  every  seaport  town."  But 
the  Jew  prospered,  and  was  a  good  citizen.  Another 
Pioneer,  who  could  look  beneath  the  surface,  said,  "  The 
1  "  Perils,  Pastimes  and  Pleasures  of  an  Emigrant,"  by  J.  W. 


PIONEER  LIFE  93 

Jew  does  honor  to  his  name  here.  The  pressure  which 
elsewhere  bows  him  to  the  earth  is  removed."  ^ 

The  variety  and  mixture  of  races  in  CaUfornia  were 
without  precedent,  and  San  Francisco  especially  prided 
itself  upon  the  barbaric  aspect  of  its  streets.  Perhaps 
the  Chinese  were  the  most  striking  figures.  The  low- 
caste  Chinamen  wore  full  jackets  and  breeches  of  blue 
calico,  and  on  their  heads  a  huge  wicker-work  hat  that 
would  have  made  a  good  family  clothes-basket.  The  aris- 
tocratic Chinaman  displayed  a  jacket  of  gay-colored  silk, 
yellow  satin  breeches,  a  scarlet  skull-cap  with  a  gold  knob 
on  top,  and,  in  cold  weather,  a  short  coat  of  Astrakhan 
fur. 

There  was,  of  course,  a  Chinese  quarter,  and  a  district 
known  as  little  Chili,  where  South  Americans  of  every 
country  could  be  found,  with  a  mixture  of  Kanakas  from 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  and  negroes  from  the  South  Seas. 
In  July,  1850,  there  arrived  a  ship-load  of  Hungarian 
exiles,  and  somewhat  later  a  company  of  Bayonnais  from 
the  south  of  France,  the  men  wild  and  excitable  in  ap- 
pearance, the  women  dark-skinned,  large-eyed,  and  grace- 
ful in  their  movements. 

There  was  a  Spanish  quarter  where,  as  Bret  Harte 
said,  "three  centuries  of  quaint  customs,  speech  and 
dress  were  still  preserved ;  where  the  proverbs  of  Sancho 
Panza  were  still  spoken  in  the  language  of  Cervantes, 
and  the  high-flown  allusions  of  the  La  Manchian  knight 
still  a  part  of  the  Spanish  Calif ornian  hidalgo's  dream.'* 

The  Spanish  women  were  usually  attended  by  Indian 
girls,  and  their  dress  was  coquettish  and  becoming.  Their 
petticoats,  short  enough  to  display  a  well-turned  ankle, 
were  richly  laced  and  embroidered,  and  striped  and 
flounced  with  gaudy  colors,  of  which  scarlet  was  the  most 
common.  Their  tresses  fell  in  luxuriant  plaits  down  their 
backs ;  and,  in  all  the  little  accessories  of  dress,  such  as 

1  Eliza  W.  Famham,  "  California,  Indoors  and  Out." 


94  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

earrings,  and  necklaces,  their  costume  was  very  rich.  Its 
chief  feature,  the  rebosoy  was  a  sort  of  scarf,  like  the  man- 
tilla of  old  Spain.  This  was  sometimes  twined  around  the 
waist  and  shoulders,  and  at  other  times  hung  in  pretty- 
festoons  about  the  figure. 

It  was  only  in  respect  to  their  diversions  that  the  Span- 
ish had  any  influence  upon  the  Americans.  The  gam- 
bling houses  and  theatres  were  largely  in  Spanish  hands 
at  first,  and  the  fandango  was  the  national  amusement 
in  which  the  American  miners  soon  learned  to  join.^ 

And  yet  the  fundamental  gravity  of  the  Spanish  na- 
ture, a  gravity  which  is  epitomized  and  immortally  fixed 
in  the  famous  portrait  of  Admiral  Pareja  by  Velasquez, 
was  as  marked  in  California  as  at  home.  It  is  thus  that 
Bret  Harte  describes  Don  Jos6  Sepulvida,  the  Knight  Er- 
rant of  the  Foot-Hills :  "  The  fading  glow  of  the  western 
sky  through  the  deep,  embrasured  windows  lit  up  his  rapt 
and  meditative  face.  He  was  a  young  man  of  apparently 
twenty-five,  with  a  colorless,  satin  complexion,  dark  eyes, 
alternating  between  melancholy  and  restless  energy,  a 
narrow,  high  forehead,  long  straight  hair,  and  a  lightly 
pencilled  mustache." 

One  is  struck  by  the  resemblance  between  Don  Jos6 
Sepulvida,  and  Culpeper  Starbottle,  the  Colonel's  ne- 
phew, whose  tragic  death  the  Reader  will  remember.  Bret 
Harte  thus  depicts  him  :  "  The  face  was  not  an  unpre- 
possessing one,  albeit  a  trifle  too  thin  and  lank  and  bil- 
ious to  be  altogether  pleasant.  The  cheek-bones  were 

1  Dancing  was  a  common  amusement  among  the  miners  even  when 
there  were  no  women  to  be  had  as  partners.  "  It  was  a  strange  sight  to 
see  a  party  of  long-bearded  men,  in  heavy  boots  and  flannel  shirts,  going 
through  all  the  steps  and  figures  of  the  dance  with  so  much  spirit,  and 
often  with  a  great  deal  of  grace ;  hearty  enjoyment  depicted  on  their  dried- 
up,  sun-burned  faces,  and  revolvers  and  bowie-knives  glancing  in  their 
belts  ;  while  a  crowd  of  the  same  rough-looking  customers  stood  around, 
cheering  them  on  to  greater  efforts,  and  occasionally  dancing  a  step  or 
two  quietly  on  their  own  account."  —  Berth  wick's  "Three  Years  in  Cali- 
fornia." 


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PIONEER  LIFE  95 

prominent,  and  the  black  eyes  sunken  in  their  orbits. 
Straight  black  hair  fell  slantwise  off  a  high  but  narrow 
forehead,  and  swept  part  of  a  hollow  cheek.  A  long, 
black  mustache  followed  the  perpendicular  curves  of  his 
mouth.  It  was  on  the  whole  a  serious,  even  quixotic  face, 
but  at  times  it  was  relieved  by  a  rare  smile  of  such  ten- 
der and  even  pathetic  sweetness,  that  Miss  Jo  is  reported 
to  have  said  that,  if  it  would  only  last  through  the  cere- 
mony, she  would  have  married  the  possessor  on  the  spot. 
*  I  once  told  him  so,'  added  that  shameless  young  woman ; 
*but  the  man  instantly  fell  into  a  settled  melancholy,  and 
has  not  laughed  since.'  "  ^ 

There  were,  in  fact,  many  things  in  common  between 
the  Southerner  and  the  Spaniard.  They  lived  in  similar 
climates,  and  the  fundamental  ideas  of  their  respective 
communities  were  very  much  the  same.  The  Southerner 
was  almost  as  deeply  imbued  as  the  Spaniard  with  ex- 
treme, aristocratic  notions  of  government  and  society ; 
and  he,  like  the  Spaniard,  was  conservative,  religious, 
dignified,  courteous,  chivalrous  to  women,  brave,  narrow- 
minded  and  indolent. 

In  The  Secret  of  Sobrientes  Well,  this  resemblance 
suddenly  occurs  to  Larry  Hawkins,  who,  in  describing 
to  Colonel  Wilson,  from  Virginia,  the  character  of  his 
Spanish  predecessor,  the  former  owner  of  the  posada  in 
which  the  Colonel  lived,  said  :  "  He  was  that  kind  o'  fool 
that  he  took  no  stock  in  mining.  When  the  boys  were 
whoopin'  up  the  place  and  finding  the  color  everywhere, 
he  was  either  ridin'  round  lookin'  up  the  wild  horses  he 
owned,  or  sittin'  with  two  or  three  lazy  peons  and  Injuns 
that  was  fed  and  looked  after  by  the  priests.  Gosh  !  Now 
I  think  of  it,  it  was  mighty  like  you  when  you  first  kem 
here  with  your  niggers.  That's  curous,  too,  ain't  it .?" 

The  hospitality  of  the  Spanish  Californian  was  bound- 
less. "  There  is  no  need  of  an  orphan  asylum  in  Califor- 

1  The  Romance  of  Madrono  Hollow. 


0  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

nia,"  wrote  the  American  Alcalde  at  Monterey.  "  The 
question  is  not  who  shall  be  burdened  with  the  care  of 
an  orphan,  but  who  shall  have  the  privilege  of  rearing  it. 
An  industrious  man  of  rather  limited  means  applied  to 
me  to-day  for  the  care  of  six  drphan  children.  He  had 
fifteen  of  his  own ; "  and  when  the  Alcalde  questioned 
the  prudence  of  his  offer,  the  Spaniard  replied,  "  The 
hen  that  has  twenty  chickens  scratches  no  harder  than 
the  hen  that  has  one." 

A  Pioneer,  speaking  from  his  own  experience,  said : 
**  If  you  are  sick  there  is  nothing  which  sympathy  can 
divine  which  is  not  done  for  you.  This  is  as  true  of  the 
lady  whose  hand  has  only  figured  her  embroidery  or 
swept  her  guitar,  as  of  the  cottage-girl  wringing  from 
her  laundry  the  foam  of  the  mountain  stream  ;  and  all  this 
from  the  heart !  "  ^ 

Generosity  and  pride  are  Spanish  traits.  "The  worst 
and  weakest  of  them,"  remarks  an  English  Pioneer,  "has 
that  indefinable  something  about  him  that  lifts  so  im- 
measurably the  beggar  of  Murillo  above  the  beggar  of 
Hogarth."  2  The  Reader  will  remember  how  cheerfully 
and  punctiliously  Don  Jose  Sepulvida  paid  the  wagers  of 
his  friend  and  servant.  Bucking  Bob.  A  gambling  debt 
was  regarded  by  the  Spaniards  in  so  sacred  a  light  that  if 
he  who  incurred  it  was  unable  to  pay,  then,  for  the  honor 
of  the  family,  any  relative,  a  godfather,  or  even  one  who 
had  the  misfortune  to  be  connected  by  marriage  with 
the  debtor,  was  bound  to  discharge  the  obligation.  Some 
Americans  basely  took  advantage  of  this  sentiment ;  and, 
in  one  case,  an  old  Spanish  lady  was  deprived  of  a  vine- 
yard, her  only  means  of  support,  in  order  to  preserve  the 
reputation  of  a  scapegrace  nephew  who  had  lost  to  an 
American  at  faro  a  greater  sum  than  he  possessed. 

Some  convenient  and  becoming  articles  of  Spanish 

1  The  Reverend  Walter  Colton,  "  Three  Years  in  California." 

2  W.  M.  Fisher,  "  The  Califomians." 


PIONEER  LIFE  97 

dress  were  adopted  by  the  Americans,  notably  the  som- 
brero and  the  serap6,  or  horseman's  cloak.  Jack  Ham- 
lin, as  the  Reader  will  remember,  sometimes  went  a  little 
further.  Thus,  when  he  started  on  his  search  for  the  Sap- 
pho of  Green  Springs,  he  "modified  his  usual  correct  con- 
ventional attire  by  a  tasteful  combination  of  a  roquero's 
costume,  and  in  loose  white  bullion-fringed  trousers,  red 
sash,  jacket  and  sombrero,  looked  infinitely  more  dashing 
and  picturesque  than  his  original." 

The  profuse  wearing  of  jewelry,  even  by  men,  was  an- 
other foreign  fashion  which  Americans  adopted  in  the 
early  years ;  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  to  appear  in  a  plain 
and  unadorned  state  was  to  be  conspicuous.  The  jewelry 
thus  worn  was  not  of  the  conventional  kind,  but  a  sort 
of  miner's  jewelry,  significant  of  the  place  and  time. 
Ornaments  were  made  from  the  gold  in  its  native  state 
by  soldering  into  one  mass  many  small  nuggets,  without 
any  polish  or  other  embellishment.  Everybody  carried 
a  gold  watch,  and  watch-chains  were  constructed  upon  a 
massive  plan,  the  links  sometimes  representing  dogs  in 
pursuit  of  deer,  horses  at  full  speed,  birds  in  the  act  of 
flight,  or  serpents  coiled  and  hissing.  Scarf-pins  were 
made  from  lumps  of  gold  retaining  their  natural  form 
and  mixed  with  quartz,  rose-colored,  blue-gray,  or  white, 
according  to  the  rock  from  which  they  were  taken.  The 
big  "specimen  ring"  worn  by  the  hero  of  A  Night  on  the 
Divide  was  an  example. 

Some  Americans  adhered  to  their  usual  dress  which,  in 
the  Eastern  States,  was  a  sober  suit  of  black ;  but  usu- 
ally the  Pioneers  discarded  all  conventional  clothes,  and 
appeared  in  a  rough  and  picturesque  costume  much  like 
that  of  a  stage  pirate.  Indeed,  it  was  impossible  for  any 
man  in  '49  to  make  his  dress  sufficiently  bizarre  to  attract 
attention.  The  prevailing  fashion  included  a  red  or  blue 
flannel  shirt,  a  "wide-awake"  hat  of  every  conceivable 
shape  and  color,  trousers  stuffed  into  a  huge  pair  of 


98  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

boots  coming  up  above  the  knee,  and  a  belt  decorated 
with  pistols  and  knives.  More  than  one  Pioneer  landed 
in  San  Francisco  with  a  rifle  slung  on  his  back,  a  sword- 
cane  in  his  hand,  two  six-shooters  and  a  bowie-knife  in 
his  belt,  and  a  couple  of  small  pistols  protruding  from  his 
waistcoat  pockets. 

In  the  rainy  season  of  '49,  long  boots  were  so  scarce, 
and  so  desirable  on  account  of  the  mud,  that  they  sold 
for  forty  dollars  a  pair  in  San  Francisco,  and  higher 
yet  in  Stockton.  Learning  of  this.  Eastern  merchants 
flooded  the  market  with  top-boots  a  year  later ;  but  by 
that  time  the  streets  had  been  planked,  the  miner's  cos- 
tume was  passing  out  of  fashion,  and  long  boots  were  no 
longer  in  demand.  These  changes  were  greatly  regretted 
by  unconventional  Pioneers,  and  even  so  early  as  1850 
they  were  lamenting  "the  good  old  times,"  —  just  one 
year  back,  —  before  the  tailor  and  the  barber  were  abroad 
in  the  land. 

Local  celebrations  were  marked  by  more  color  and 
display  than  are  usually  indulged  in  by  Americans.  In 
185 1,  on  Washington's  Birthday,  there  was  a  procession 
in  San  Francisco  headed  by  the  Mayor  in  a  barouche 
drawn  by  four  white  horses.  Next  came  the  fire  engines 
of  the  city,  each  with  a  team  of  eight  gray  horses,  and 
followed  by  a  long  train  of  firemen  in  white  shirts  and 
black  trousers.  Then  came  a  company  of  teamsters 
mounted  on  their  draught  horses,  and  carrying  gay  ban- 
ners; and  finally  a  delegation  of  Chinamen,  preceded  by  a 
Chinese  band  and  bearing  aloft  a  huge  flag  of  yellow  silk. 

Horsemen,  more  or  less  intoxicated,  and  shouting  like 
wild  Indians,  charged  up  and  down  the  streets  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night,  to  the  great  discomfort  of 
many  and  the  fatal  injury  of  some  pedestrians.  "On 
Sundays  especially,  one  would  imagine,"  a  local  news- 
paper remarks,  "  that  a  horde  of  Cossacks  or  Tartars  had 
taken  possession  of  the  city." 


PIONEER  LIFE  99 

"  The  Spaniard,"  Bret  Harte  says, "  taught  the  Amer- 
icans  horsemanship,  and  they  rode  off  with  his  cattle." 
The  Americans  usually  adopted  the  Spanish  equipment, 
consisting  of  a  huge  saddle,  with  cumbrous  leather  sad- 
dle-flaps, stirrups  carved  from  solid  oak,  heavy  metal 
spurs,  a  bridle  jingling  with  ornaments,  and  a  cruel 
curb  bit,  —  the  whole  paraphernalia  being  designed  to 
serve  the  convenience  and  vanity  of  the  rider  without 
the  least  regard  to  the  comfort  of  his  beast.  The  Spanish 
manner  of  abrupt  stopping,  made  possible  by  the  severe 
bit,  was  also  taken  up  by  young  Americans  who  loved 
to  charge  down  upon  a  friend,  halting  at  the  last  possible 
moment,  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  with  the  horse  almost  upon 
his  haunches.  This  was  Jack  Hamlin's  habit. 

A  popular  figure  in  the  streets  of  San  Francisco  was 
a  black  pony,  the  property  of  a  constable,  that  stood 
most  of  the  day,  saddled  and  bridled,  in  front  of  his 
master's  office.  The  pony's  favorite  diversion  was  to 
have  his  hoofs  blacked  and  polished,  and  whenever  a 
coin  was  placed  between  his  lips,  he  would  carry  it  to 
a  neighboring  boot-black,  put,  first,  one  fore-foot,  and 
then  the  other,  on  the  foot-rest,  and,  after  receiving  a 
satisfactory  "shine,"  would  walk  gravely  back  to  his 
usual  station.  Even  the  dumb  animals  felt  that  some- 
thing unusual  was  expected  of  them  in  California. 

There  were  no  harness  horses  or  carriages  in  San 
Francisco  in  the  early  part  of  '49 ;  and  when  they  were 
introduced  toward  the  end  of  that  year,  a  touch  of  bar- 
baric splendor  marked  the  fashionable  equipage  of  the 
hour.  A  pair  of  white  horses  with  gilt  trappings,  draw- 
ing a  light,  yellow-wheeled  buggy,  was  once  a  familiar 
sight  in  the  streets  of  the  city.  The  demi-monde  rode  on 
horseback,  in  parties  of  two  or  three,  and  even  of  six  or 
more,  and  the  pace  which  they  set  corresponded  with 
that  of  California  life  in  general.  The  appearance  of  one 
of  the  most  noted  of  these  women  is  thus  described  by 


loo  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

a  Pioneer,  the  wife  of  a  sea-captain  :  **  I  have  seen  her 
mounted  on  a  glossy,  lithe-limbed  race-horse,  one  that 
had  won  for  her  many  thousands  on  the  race-course, 
habited  in  a  close-fitting  riding-dress  of  black  velvet, 
ornamented  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  gold  buttons,  a 
hat  from  which  depended  magnificent  sable  plumes,  and 
over  her  face  a  short,  white  lace  veil  of  the  richest  tex- 
ture, so  gossamer-like  one  could  almost  see  the  fire  of 
passion  flashing  from  the  depths  of  her  dark,  lustrous 
eyes."  ^ 

Even  the  climate,  the  dry,  bracing  air,  the  cool  nights, 
the  aromatic  fragrance  of  the  woods,  tended  to  quicken 
the  pulse  of  the  Argonauts,  and  to  heighten  the  general 
exuberance  of  feeling. 

Central  California,  the  scene  of  Bret  Harte's  stories, 
is  a  great  valley  bounded  on  the  west  by  the  Coast 
Range  of  hills  or  mountains,  which  rise  from  two  thou- 
sand to  four  thousand,  and  in  a  few  places  to  five  thou- 
sand feet,  and  on  the  east  by  the  Foot-Hills.  After  the 
immigration,  this  valley  furnished  immense  crops  of 
wheat,  vegetables  and  fruit ;  but  in  '49  it  was  a  vast,  un- 
cultivated plain,  free  from  underbrush  or  other  small 
growth,  and  studded  by  massive,  spreading  oaks,  by  tall 
plane  trees,  and  occasionally  by  a  gigantic  redwood, 
sending  its  topmost  branches  two  and  even  three  hun- 
dred feet  into  the  air.  In  the  dry  season,  the  surface  was 
brown  and  parched,  but  as  soon  as  the  rains  began,  the 
wild  grasses  and  wild  oats  gave  it  a  rich  carpet  of  green, 
sparkling  with  countless  field  flowers.  The  resemblance 
of  the  valley,  in  the  rainy  season  at  least,  to  an  English 
park,  was  often  spoken  of  by  Pioneers  who  found  in  it 
a  reminder  of  home. 

On  the  eastern  side  this  great  central  valley  gradually 
merges  into  the  Foot-Hills,  the  vanguards  of  the  lofty 
mountain  range  which  separates  central  California  from 

^A  Mrs.  D.  B.  Bates,  "  Incidents  on  Land  and  Water." 


PIONEER  LIFE  loi 

Nevada.  The  Foot-Hills  form  what  is  perhaps  the  most 
picturesque  part  of  the  State,  watered  in  the  rainy  season 
by  numerous  rocky,  swift-flowing  streams,  the  tributaries 
of  the  Sacramento  and  the  San  Joaquin,  and  broken  into 
those  deep,  narrow  glens  so  often  described  in  Bret 
Harte's  poetry  and  prose.  This  was  the  principal  gold- 
bearing  region.  The  Foot-Hills  extend  over  a  space  about 
five  hundred  miles  long  and  fifty  wide,  and  from  them 
arise,  sometimes  abruptly,  and  sometimes  gradually,  the 
snow-crowned  Sierras. 

Such  is  central  California.  A  region  extending  from 
latitude  32°  30'  in  the  South  to  42°  in  the  North,  and 
rising  from  the  level  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  to  mountain 
peaks  fifteen  thousand  feet  high,  must  needs  present 
many  varieties  of  weather ;  but  on  the  whole  the  State 
may  be  said  to  have  a  mild,  dry,  breezy,  healthy  climate. 
Except  in  the  mountains  and  in  the  extreme  northeast, 
snow  never  lies  long,  the  earth  does  not  freeze,  and 
Winter  is  like  a  wet  Spring  during  which  the  cattle  fare 
much  better  than  they  do  in  Summer.  The  passing  of 
one  season  into  the  other  was  thus  described  by  Bret 
Harte  :  "  The  eternal  smile  of  the  California  Summer 
had  begun  to  waver  and  grow  fixed ;  dust  lay  thick  on 
leaf  and  blade;  the  dry  hills  were  clothed  in  russet 
leather ;  the  trade  winds  were  shifting  to  the  south  with 
an  ominous  warm  humidity;  a  few  days  longer,  and  the 
rains  would  be  here." 

San  Francisco  has  a  climate  of  its  own.  Ice  never 
forms  there,  and  geraniums  bloom  throughout  the  Win- 
ter ;  but  during  the  dry  season,  which  lasts  from  May  or 
June  until  September  or  October,  a  strong,  cold  wind 
blows  in  every  afternoon  from  the  ocean,  dying  down  at 
sunset.  The  mercury  falls  with  the  coming  of  the  wind, 
the  rays  of  the  sun  seem  to  have  no  more  warmth  than 
moonbeams,  the  sand  blows  up  in  clouds,  doors  and 
windows  rattle,  and  the  city  is  swept  and  scourged.  But 


I02  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

fifty  miles  inland  the  air  is  still  and  balmy,  and  residents 
of  San  Francisco  leave  the  city  in  Summer  not  to  escape 
unpleasant  heat,  but  to  enjoy  the  relaxation  of  a  milder 
and  less  stimulating  climate.  "In  the  interior  one  bright, 
still  day  follows  another,  as  calm,  as  dreamy,  as  discon- 
nected from  time  and  space  as  was  the  air  which  lulled 
the  lotus-eaters  to  rest."  ^  This  evenness  of  temperature 
was  amazing  and  delightful  to  the  weather-beaten  Pio- 
neers from  New  England. 

The  Midsummer  days  are  often  intensely  hot  in  the 
interior,  but  the  nights  are  cool,  and  the  atmosphere  is 
so  dry  that  the  heat  is  not  enervating.  Men  have  been 
seen  hard  at  work  digging  a  cellar  with  the  thermometer 
at  125°  F.  in  the  shade;  and  sunstrokes,  though  not  un- 
known, are  extremely  rare.  Nothing  decays  or  becomes 
offensive.  Fresh  meat  hung  in  the  shade  does  not  spoil. 
Dead  animal  or  vegetable  matter  simply  dries  up  and 
wastes  away. 

In  1849  the  rains  were  uncommonly  severe,  to  the 
great  discomfort  of  the  Pioneers  ;  and  Alvarado,  the 
former  Spanish  governor,  explained  the  fact  in  all  sin- 
cerity by  saying  that  the  Yankees  had  been  accompanied 
to  California  by  the  devil  himself.  This  explanation  was 
accepted  by  the  natives  generally,  without  doubt  or 
qualification.  The  streets  of  San  Francisco,  in  that  year, 
were  like  the  beds  of  rivers.  It  was  no  uncommon  thing 
to  see,  at  the  same  time,  a  mule  stalled  in  the  middle  of 
the  highway,  with  only  his  head  showing  above  the  road, 
and  an  unfortunate  pedestrian,  who  had  slipped  off  the 
plank  sidewalk,  in  process  of  being  fished  out  by  a  com- 
panion. At  the  corner  of  Clay  and  Kearney  Streets  there 
once  stood  a  sign,  erected  by  some  joker,  inscribed  as 
follows,  — 

This  street  is  impassable, 

Not  even  jackassable ! 

1  J.  M.  Letts,  "  California  Illustrated." 


PIONEER   LIFE  103 

But  the  rainy  season  is  usually  neither  long  nor  con- 
stant. The  fall  of  rain  on  the  Pacific  Slope  is  only  about 
one  third  of  the  rainfall  in  the  Atlantic  States ;  and,  be- 
fore water  was  supplied  artificially,  the  miner  was  often 
obliged  to  suspend  operations  for  want  of  it.  Frequently 
a  day's  rain  would  have  been  cheaply  bought  at  the  price 
of  a  million  dollars  ;  and  even  a  good  shower  gave  an 
impetus  to  business  which  was  felt  by  the  merchants 
and  gamblers  of  San  Francisco  and  Sacramento.  It 
was  observed  that  after  a  long  drought  dimes  took  the 
place  of  gold  slugs  upon  the  roulette  and  faro  tables. 
Thus,  even  the  weather  was  a  speculation  in  Pioneer 
times. 

And  yet,  notwithstanding  the  general  mildness  of  the 
climate,  extremes  of  cold,  at  high  levels,  are  close  at  hand. 
Snow  often  falls  to  a  depth  of  one  or  two  feet  within 
fifty  miles  of  San  Francisco.  Near  the  head-waters  of 
the  Feather  River  the  snow  is  sometimes  twelve  and 
even  fifteen  feet  deep ;  and  in  December,  1850,  eighteen 
men  out  of  a  party  of  nineteen,  and  sixty-eight  of  their 
seventy  mules  froze  to  death  in  one  night.  A  snow- 
storm came  up  so  suddenly,  and  fell  with  such  fury, 
that  their  firewood  became  inaccessible,  and  they  were 
obliged  to  burn  their  cabin ;  but  even  that  did  not  save 
them. 

Bret  Harte  has  described  a  California  snow-storm  not 
only  in  The  Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat,  but  in  several  other 
stories,  notably  in  Gabriel  Conroy,  Snow-Bound  at 
Eagle  s,  and  A  Night  on  the  Divide.  It  is  interesting  to 
know,  as  Mr.  Pemberton  tells  us,  that  the  description  of 
the  snow-storm  in  Gabriel  Conroy  was  written  on  a  hot 
day  in  August. 

Poker  Flat  was  in  Sierra  County,  and  in  March,  i860, 
the  snow  was  so  deep  in  that  county  that  tunnels  were 
dug  through  it  as  a  picturesque  and  convenient  means 
of  access   to  local    saloons.    The    storm  which   over- 


104  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

whelmed  the  Outcasts  was  no  uncommon  event.  But 
when  these  storms  clear  off,  the  cold,  though  often  in- 
tense, is  not  disagreeable,  owing  to  the  dryness  of  the 
air.  "We  are  now  working  every  fair  day,"  wrote  a 
miner  in  January,  i860,  "and  have  been  all  the  Winter 
without  inconvenience.  The  long,  sled-runner  Norwegian 
snow-shoes  are  used  here  by  nearly  everybody.  I  have 
seen  the  ladies  floating  about,  wheeling  and  soaring, 
with  as  much  grace  and  ease  of  motion  as  swans  on  the 
bosom  of  a  placid  lake  or  eagles  in  the  sun-lit  air." 

On  the  summit  of  the  mountains  the  snow  is  per- 
petual, and  on  the  easterly  slopes  it  often  attains  the 
almost  incredible  depth,  or  height,  of  fifty  feet.  In  A 
Tale  of  Three  Truants^  Bret  Harte  has  described  an 
avalanche  of  snow,  carrying  the  Three  Truants  along 
with  it,  in  the  course  of  which  they  "  seemed  to  be  going 
through  a  thicket  of  underbrush,  but  Provy  Smith  knew 
that  they  were  the  tops  of  pine  trees." 

On  the  whole,  the  climate  of  California  justified  the 
enthusiasm  which  it  aroused  in  the  Pioneers,  and  which 
sometimes  found  an  amusing  expression.  The  birth  of 
twins  to  an  immigrant  and  his  wife,  who  had  been  child- 
less for  fifteen  years,  was  triumphantly  recorded  by  a  San 
Jos6  paper  as  the  natural  result  of  even  a  short  residence 
on  the  Pacific  Slope.  Large  families  and  long  life  marked 
not  only  the  Spaniards,  but  also  the  Mexicans  and  In- 
dians. Families  of  fifteen,  twenty,  and  even  twenty-five 
children  excited  no  surprise  and  procured  no  rewards 
of  merit  for  the  parents.  In  1849  there  was  a  woman 
living  at  Monterey  whose  children,  all  alive  and  in  good 
health,  numbered  twenty-eight. 

We  read  of  an  Indian,  blind  but  still  active  at  the  age 
of  one  hundred  and  forty  ;  and  of  a  squaw  "  very  active  " 
at  one  hundred  and  twenty-six.  Mr.  Charles  Dudley 
Warner  ^  speaks  of  "  Don  Antonio  Serrano,  a  tall,  spare 

1  "  Our  Italy." 


PIONEER  LIFE  105 

man,  who  rides  with  grace  and  vigor  at  ninety-three,"  and 
of  an  Indian  servant  "  who  was  a  grown  man,  breaking 
horses,  when  Don  Antonio  was  an  infant.  This  man  is 
still  strong  enough  to  mount  his  horse  and  canter  about 
the  country.  He  is  supposed  to  be  about  one  hundred 
and  eighteen."  This  wonderful  longevity  was  ascribed 
by  Mr.  Warner  to  the  equable  climate  and  a  simple 
diet. 

Ancient  Mexicans  and  Indians  figure  occasionally  in 
Bret  Harte's  stories.  There  is,  for  example,  Concepcion, 
"a  wrinkled  Indian  woman,  brown  and  veined  like  a 
tobacco  leaf,"  who  acts  as  servant  to  the  Convert  of  the 
Mission ;  and,  at  the  Mission  of  San  Carmel,  Sanchicha, 
in  the  form  of  a  bundle,  is  brought  in  and  deposited  in 
a  corner  of  the  room.  "  Father  Pedro  bent  over  the 
heap,  and  distinguished  in  its  midst  the  glowing  black 
eyes  of  Sanchicha,  the  Indian  centenarian  of  the  Mis- 
sion. Only  her  eyes  lived.  Helpless,  boneless,  and  jelly- 
like, old  age  had  overtaken  her  with  a  mild  form  of 
deliquescence." 

But  it  was  not  length  of  days,  —  it  was  feverish  energy 
that  the  climate  produced  in  the  new  race  which  had 
come  under  its  influence.  The  amount  of  labor  performed 
by  the  Pioneers  was  prodigious.  "There  is  as  much  dif- 
ference," wrote  the  Methodist  preacher.  Father  Taylor, 
"  between  the  muscular  action  of  the  California  miner  and 
a  man  hired  to  work  on  a  farm,  as  between  the  aimless 
movements  of  a  sloth  and  the  pounce  of  the  panther." 

"We  have,"  declared  a  San  Francisco  paper,  "the 
most  exhilarating  atmosphere  in  the  world.  In  it  a  man 
can  do  more  work  than  anywhere  else,  and  he  feels 
under  a  constant  pressure  of  excitement.  With  a  sun 
like  that  of  Italy,  a  coast  wind  as  cool  as  an  Atlantic 
breeze  in  Spring,  an  air  as  crisp  and  dry  as  that  of  the 
high  Alps,  people  work  on  without  let  or  relaxation, 
until  the  vital  cord  suddenly  snaps.  Few  Americans  die 


io6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

gradually  here  or  of  old  age  ;  they  fall  off  without  warn- 
ing." 

So  late  as  i860  it  was  often  said  that  there  were  busy 
men  in  San  Francisco  who  had  never  taken  a  day's 
vacation,  or  even  left  the  city  to  cross  the  Bay,  from  the 
hour  of  their  arrival  in  1849  until  that  moment.  Even 
this  record  has  been  eclipsed.  A  Pioneer  of  German 
birth,  named  Henry  Miller,  who  accumulated  a  fortune 
of  six  million  dollars,  is  said  to  have  lived,  or  at  least  to 
have  existed,  in  San  Francisco  for  thirty-five  years  with- 
out taking  a  single  day's  vacation. 

It  was  even  asserted  at  first  that  the  climate  neu- 
tralized the  effect  of  intoxicating  liquor,  and  that  it  was 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  get  really  drunk  in  Cali- 
fornia. Possibly  a  somewhat  lax  definition  of  drunken- 
ness accounted  in  part  for  this  theory.  A  witness  once 
testified  in  a  San  Francisco  court  that  he  did  not  con- 
sider a  man  to  be  drunk  so  long  as  he  could  move.  But 
the  crowning  excellence  of  the  California  climate  remains 
to  be  stated.  It  was  observed  by  the  Pioneers,  —  and 
they  had  ample  opportunity  to  make  observations  upon 
the  subject,  —  that  in  that  benign  atmosphere  gunshot 
wounds  healed  rapidly. 

With  a  climate  exhilarating  and  curative ;  with  youth, 
health,  courage,  and  the  prospect  of  almost  immediate 
wealth ;  with  new  and  exciting  surroundings,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  the  Pioneers  enjoyed  their  hour.  In  San 
Francisco,  especially,  a  kind  of  pleasant  madness  seized 
upon  every  newcomer.  "  As  each  man  steps  his  foot  on 
shore,"  writes  one  adventurer,  "  he  seems  to  have  entered 
a  magic  circle  in  which  he  is  under  the  influence  of  new 
impulses."  And  another,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  says, 
"  As  soon  as  you  reach  California  you  will  think  every 
one  is  crazy  ;  and  without  great  caution,  you  will  be  crazy 
yourself." 

Still  another  Pioneer  wrote  home  even  more  emphati- 


PIONEER  LIFE  107 

cally  on  this  point :  "  You  can  form  no  conception  of 
the  state  of  affairs  here.  I  do  believe,  in  my  soul,  every- 
body has  gone  mad,  —  stark,  staring  mad."  ^ 

To  the  same  effect  is  the  narrative  of  Stephen  J. 
Field,  afterward,  and  for  many  years,  a  Justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States.  Mr.  Field,  who 
arrived  in  San  Francisco  as  a  very  young  man,  thus  de- 
scribes his  first  experience  :  — 

"  As  I  walked  along  the  streets,  I  met  a  great  many 
persons  whom  I  had  known  in  New  York,  and  they  all 
seemed  to  be  in  the  highest  spirits.  Every  one  in  greet- 
ing me  said,  *  It  is  a  glorious  country  ! '  or  *  Is  n't  it  a 
glorious  country  .? '  or  *  Did  you  ever  see  a  more  glorious 
country  .? '  In  every  case  the  word  *  glorious '  was  sure 
to  come  out.  ...  I  caught  the  infection,  and  though  I 
had  but  a  single  dollar  in  my  pocket,  no  business  what- 
ever, and  did  not  know  where  I  was  to  get  my  next 
meal,  I  found  myself  saying  to  everybody  I  met, '  It  is  a 
glorious  country  ! '"  ^ 

"The  exuberance  of  my  spirits,"  Judge  Field  con- 
tinues, *'was  marvellous  "  ;  and  the  readers  of  his  inter- 
esting reminiscences  will  not  be  inclined  to  dispute  the 
fact  when  they  learn  that  four  days  after  his  arrival, 
having  made  the  sum  of  twenty  dollars  by  selling  a  few 
New  York  newspapers,  he  forthwith  put  down  his  name 
for  sixty-five  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  town  lots,  and 
received  the  consideration  due  to  a  capitalist  bent  upon 
developing  the  resources  of  a  new  country. 

The  most  extravagant  acts  appeared  reasonable  under 
the  new  dispensation.  Nobody  was  surprised  when  an 
enthusiastic  miner  offered  to  bet  a  friend  that  the  latter 


1  This  quality  seems  to  have  persisted,  if  we  can  trust  Mr.  Rudyard 
Kipling,  who  wrote  in  the  year  1899 :  "  San  Francisco  is  a  mad  city.  .  .  . 
Recklessness  is  in  the  air.  I  can't  explain  where  it  comes  from,  but  there 
it  is.   The  roaring  winds  off  the  Pacific  make  you  drunk,  to  begin  with." 

*  Stephen  J.  Field,  "  Personal  Reminiscences  of  California." 


lo8  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

could  not  hit  him  with  a  shotgun  at  the  distance  of 
seventy-eight  yards.  As  a  result  the  miner  received  five 
shots,  causing  severe  wounds,  beside  losing  the  bet, 
which  amounted  to  four  drinks.  After  the  first  State 
election,  a  magistrate  holding  an  important  office  ful- 
filled a  wager  by  carrying  the  winner  a  distance  of  three 
miles  in  a  wheelbarrow. 

A  characteristic  scene  in  a  Chinese  restaurant  is  de- 
scribed as  follows  in  the  "  Sacramento  Transcript "  of 
October  8,  1850:  — 

"  One  young  man  called  for  a  plate  of  mutton  chops, 
and  the  waiter,  not  understanding,  asked  for  a  repetition 
of  the  order. 

" '  Mutton  chops,  you  chuckle  head,'  said  the  young 
gentleman. 

"*  Mutton  chops,  you  chuckle  head,'  shouted  the 
Chinaman  to  the  kitchen. 

"The  joke  took  among  the  customers,  and  presently 
one  of  them  called  out,  *A  glass  of  pigeon  milk,  you 
long-tailed  Asiatic' 

"  *  A  glass  of  pigeon  milk,  you  long-tailed  satic,'  echoed 
the  waiter. 

***A  barrel  of  homoeopathic  soup,  old  smooth  head,' 
shouted  another. 

"  *  Arrel  homepatty  soup,  you  old  smooth  head,'  echoed 
the  waiter. 

"  *  A  hatful  of  bricks,'  shouted  a  fourth. 

"*  Hatter  bricks,'  repeated  the  waiter. 

"  By  this  time  the  kitchen  was  in  a  perfect  state  of 
confusion,  and  the  proprietor  in  a  stew  of  perplexity 
rushed  into  the  dining-room.  *What  you  mean  by 
pigeon  milk,  homepatty  soup,  and  de  brick  ?  How  you 
cooking,  gentlemen } ' 

"A  roar  burst  from  the  tables,  and  the  shrewd 
Asiatic  saw  in  a  moment  that  they  were  hoaxing  his 
subordinates.     *The    gentlemen    make    you    all    dam 


PIONEER  LIFE  109 

fools,*  said  he,  rushing  again  into  the  smoky  recess  of 
the  kitchen." 

At  a  dinner  given  in  San  Francisco  a  local  orator  thus 
discoursed  upon  the  glories  of  California  :  •*  Look  at  its 
forest  trees,  varying  from  three  hundred  to  one  thousand 
feet  in  height,  with  their  trunks  so  close  together  [draw- 
ing his  knife  and  pantomiming]  that  you  can't  stick  this 
bowie-knife  between  them  ;  and  the  lordly  elk,  with  ant- 
lers from  seventeen  to  twenty  feet  spread,  with  their 
heads  and  tails  up,  ambling  through  these  grand  forests. 
It 's  a  sight,  gentlemen"  — 

"Stop,"  cried  a  newcomer  who  had  not  yet  been  in- 
oculated with  the  atmosphere.  "  My  friend,  if  the  trees 
are  so  close  together,  how  does  the  elk  get  through  the 
woods  with  his  wide-branching  horns  ? " 

The  Californian  turned  on  the  stranger  with  a  look  of 
thorough  contempt  and  replied,  "That's  the  elk's  busi- 
ness"; and  continued  his  unvarnished  tale,  no  more  em- 
barrassed than  the  sun  at  noonday. 

"There  was  a  spirit  of  off-hand,  jolly  fun  in  those 
days,  a  sort  of  universal  free  and  easy  cheerfulness.  .  .  . 
The  California  Pioneer  that  could  not  give  and  take 
a  joke  was  just  no  Californian  at  all.  It  was  this  spirit 
that  gives  the  memory  of  those  days  an  indescribable 
fascination  and  charm."  ^ 

The  very  names  first  given  to  places  and  situations 
show  the  same  exuberant  spirit ;  such,  for  example,  as 
Murderer's  Alley,  Dead  Man's  Bar,  Mad  Mule  Cailon, 
Skunk  Flat,  Whiskey  Gulch,  Port  Wine  Diggins,  Shirt- 
Tail  Hollow,  Bloody  Bend,  Death  Pass,  Jackass  Flat, 
and  Hell's  Half  Acre. 

Even  crime  took  on  a  bold  and  original  form.  A  scape- 
grace in  Sacramento  stole  a  horse  while  the  owner  still 
held  the  bridle.  The  owner  had  stepped  into  a  shop  to 
ask  a  question,  but  kept  the  end  of  the  reins  in  his  hand, 

1  William  Grey,  **  Pioneer  Times  in  California." 


no  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

when  the  thief  gently  slipped  the  bridle  from  the  horse's 
head,  hung  it  on  a  post,  and  rode  off  with  steed  and 
saddle. 

Bizarre  characters  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  drawn 
as  by  a  magnet,  took  ship  for  California  in  '49  and  '50 
and  became  wealthy,  or  landed  in  the  Police  Court,  as 
fate  would  have  it.  The  latter  was  the  destination  of  one 
Murphy,  an  Irishman  presumably,  and  certainly  a  man 
of  imagination,  who  described  himself  as  a  teacher  of 
mathematics,  and  acknowledged  that  he  had  been  drunk 
for  the  preceding  six  years.  He  added,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Court,  that  he  had  been  at  the  breaking  of  every 
pane  of  glass  from  Vera  Cruz  to  San  Francisco,  that  he 
had  smoked  a  dozen  cigars  in  the  halls  of  the  Montezu- 
mas,  and  that  there  were  as  many  persons  contending 
for  his  name  as  there  were  cities  for  the  birth  of  Homer. 
The  Court  gave  him  six  months. 

Two  residents  of  San  Francisco,  one  a  Frenchman, 
the  other  a  Dutchman,  were  so  enthusiastic  over  their 
new  and  republican  surroundings  that  they  slept  every 
night  under  the  Liberty  Pole  on  the  Plaza ;  and  seldom 
did  they  fail  to  turn  in  patriotically  drunk,  shouting  for 
freedom  and  equality.  Prize-fighters,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  were  attracted  to  a  place  where  sporting  blood 
ran  so  high.  In  June,  1850,  news  came  that  Tom  Hyer 
(of  whose  celebrity  the  Reader  is  doubtless  aware)  was 
shortly  expected  with  "his  lady  "  at  Panama;  and  he  must 
have  arrived  in  due  course,  for  in  August,  Tom  Hyer 
was  tried  in  the  Police  Court  of  San  Francisco  for  enter- 
ing several  saloons  on  horseback,  in  one  case  performing 
the  classic  feat  of  riding  up  a  flight  of  steps.  The  de- 
fence set  up  that  this  was  not  an  uncommon  method  of 
entering  saloons  in  San  Francisco,  and  the  Court  took 
"judicial  notice  "  of  the  fact,  his  honor  having  witnessed 
the  same  thing  himself  on  more  than  one  occasion.  How- 
ever, as  Mr.  Hyer  was  somewhat  intoxicated,  and  as  the 


PIONEER  LIFE  iii 

alleged  offence  was  committed  on  a  Sunday,  the  Judge 
imposed  a  small  fine. 

In  the  same  year,  Mr.  T.  Belcher  Kay,  another  famous 
prize-fighter  from  the  East,  narrowly  escaped  being 
murdered  while  returning  from  a  ball  before  daylight 
one  Sunday  morning ;  and  subsequently  Mr.  Kay  was 
tried,  but  acquitted,  on  a  charge  of  burglary. 

In  that  strange  collection  of  hum^n  beings  drawn  from 
all  parts  of  the  earth,  for  the  most  part  unknown  to  one 
another,  but  almost  all  having  this  fundamental  trait  in 
common,  namely,  that  they  were  close  to  nature,  it  was 
inevitable  that  incidents  of  pathos  and  tragedy,  deeds  of 
rascality  and  cruelty,  and  still  more  deeds  of  unselfish- 
ness and  heroism,  should  continually  occur. 

Some  Pioneers  met  good  fortune  or  disaster  at  the 
very  threshold.  One  young  man,  upon  landing  in  San 
Francisco,  borrowed  ten  dollars,  went  immediately  to  a 
gambling  saloon,  won  seven  thousand  dollars,  and  with 
rare  good  sense  took  the  next  steamer  for  home.  Another 
newcomer,  who  brought  a  few  hundred  dollars  with  him, 
wandered  into  the  gambling  rooms  of  the  Parker  House 
soon  after  his  arrival,  won  twenty  thousand  dollars 
there,  and  went  home  two  days  later. 

A  Pioneer  who  had  just  crossed  the  Plains  fell  into  a 
strange  experience  upon  his  arrival  at  Placerville.  He 
was  a  poor  man,  his  only  property  being  a  yoke  of  oxen 
which  he  sold  almost  immediately  for  one  hundred  dol- 
lars in  gold  dust.  Shortly  before  that  a  purse  containing 
the  same  quantity  of  gold  had  been  stolen ;  and  when,  a 
few  hours  later,  the  newly-arrived  teamster  took  out  his 
pocket-book  to  pay  for  a  small  purchase,  a  man  immedi- 
ately stepped  forward  and  accused  him  of  the  robbery. 
He  was,  of  course,  arrested,  and  a  jury  to  try  him  was 
impanelled  on  the  spot.  The  quality  of  the  gold  in  his 
purse  corresponded  exactly  with  the  quality  of  the  stolen 
gold.  It  was  known  that  he  had  only  just  arrived  from 


112  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

the  Plains  and  could  not  have  obtained  the  gold  dust  by- 
mining.  The  man  to  whom  he  sold  his  cattle  had  gone, 
and  he  was  unable  to  prove  how  he  had  come  by  the 
treasure.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  jury  found  him 
guilty,  and  sentenced  him  to  receive  thirty  lashes  on  the 
bare  back,  which  were  thereupon  administered,  the  un- 
fortunate man  all  the  time  protesting  his  innocence. 

After  he  was  whipped,  he  procured  a  pistol,  walked 
deliberately  up  to  the  person  who  first  accused  him, 
placed  the  pistol  at  his  head,  and  declared  that  he  be- 
lieved him  to  be  the  guilty  man,  and  that  if  he  did  not 
then  and  there  confess  that  he  had  stolen  the  money  he 
would  blow  his  brains  out.  The  fellow  could  not  stand 
the  power  of  injured  innocence.  He  became  frightened, 
acknowledged  that  he  was  the  thief,  and  drew  the  iden- 
tical stolen  money  out  of  his  pocket.  The  enraged  crowd 
instantly  set  upon  him,  bore  him  to  the  nearest  tree,  and 
hung  him.  A  subscription  was  then  started,  and  about 
eighteen  hundred  dollars  were  raised  in  a  few  minutes 
for  the  sagacious  teamster,  who  departed  forthwith  for 
his  home  in  the  East.^ 

Of  the  many  thousand  Pioneers  at  work  in  the  mines 
very  few  reaped  a  reward  at  all  commensurate  with  their 
toils,  privations  and  sufferings,  —  much  less  with  their 
expectations.  The  wild  ideas  which  prevailed  in  some 
quarters  as  to  the  abundance  of  the  gold  may  be  gath- 
ered from  the  advice  given  to  one  young  Argonaut  by 
his  father,  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  from  Illinois.  The 
venerable  man  urged  his  son  not  to  work  too  hard,  but 
to  buy  a  low  chair  and  a  small  iron  rake,  and,  taking  his 
seat  comfortably,  to  rake  over  the  sand,  pick  up  the  nug- 
gets as  they  came  to  view,  and  place  them  in  a  conven- 
ient box. 

In  reality,  the  miners'  earnings,  after  deducting  ne- 
cessary living  expenses,  are  computed  to  have  averaged 
1  See  the  San  Francisco  "  Herald  "  of  May  19,  1856. 


PIONEER  LIFE  113 

only  about  three  times  the  wages  of  an  unskilled  day- 
laborer  in  the  East.  Few  of  them  saved  anything,  for 
there  was  every  temptation  to  squander  their  gains  in 
dissipation;  and  men  whose  income  is  subject  to  wide 
fluctuations  are  notoriously  unthrifty.  The  following  is 
a  typical  experience :  **  Our  diet  consists  of  hard  bread, 
flour  which  we  eat  half -cooked,  and  salt  pork,  with  occa- 
sionally a  salmon  which  we  purchase  of  the  Indians. 
Vegetables  are  not  to  be  procured.  Our  feet  are  wet  all 
day,  while  a  hot  sun  shines  down  upon  our  heads,  and 
the  very  air  parches  the  skin  like  the  hot  air  of  an  oven. 
Our  drinking  water  comes  down  to  us  thoroughly  im- 
pregnated with  the  mineral  substances  washed  through 
the  thousand  cradles  above  us.  The  hands  and  feet  of 
the  novice  become  painfully  blistered  and  the  limbs  are 
stiff.  Besides  all  these  causes  of  sickness,  many  men 
who  have  left  their  wives  and  children  in  far-distant 
States  are  homesick,  anxious  and  despondent."  ^ 

Many  a  family  in  the  East  was  desolated  and  reduced 
to  poverty  by  the  untimely  death  of  a  husband  and 
father ;  and  in  other  cases  long  absence  was  as  effectual 
in  this  respect  as  death  itself.  The  once-common  expres- 
sion "California  widow"  is  significant.  Some  Eastern 
men  took  informal  wives  on  the  Pacific  Slope;  others, 
who  had  succeeded,  put  off  their  home-coming  from 
month  to  month,  and  even  from  year  to  year,  hoping  for 
still  greater  success;  others  yet,  who  had  failed,  were 
ashamed  to  go  home  in  poverty,  and  lingered  in  Cali- 
fornia until  death  overtook  them.  This  phase  of  Pioneer 
life  is  treated  by  Bret  Harte  in  the  stories  How  Old 
Man  Plunkett  went  Home,  and  yimmys  Big  Brother 
from  California,  Of  those  who  were  lucky  enough  to 
find  gold  in  large  quantities,  many  were  robbed,  and 
some  of  these  unfortunates  went  home,  or  died,  broken- 
hearted. 

1  D.  B.  Woods,  "  Sixteen  Months  at  the  Gold  Diggings." 


114  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

But  as  a  rule,  the  Pioneers  rose  superior  to  every  blow 
that  fate  could  deal  them.  Men  met  misfortune,  danger, 
even  death  with  composure,  and  yet  without  bravado.  A 
traveller  being  told  that  a  man  was  about  to  be  lynched, 
proceeded  to  the  spot  and  found  a  large  gathering  of  mi- 
ners standing  around  in  groups  under  the  trees,  and  quietly 
talking.  Seeing  no  apparent  criminal  there,  he  stepped 
up  to  one  person  who  stood  a  little  apart  from  the  others, 
and  asked  him  which  was  the  man  about  to  be  hung. 
The  person  addressed  replied,  without  the  slightest 
change  of  countenance,  '*I  believe.  Sir,  it's  me."  Half 
an  hour  later  he  was  dead. 

There  was  a  battle  at  Sacramento  in  1850  between  a 
party  of  "Squatters"  on  one  side,  and  city  officials  and 
citizens  on  the  other.  Among  the  latter  was  one  J.  F. 
Hooper  from  Independence  in  Missouri.  Hooper,  armed 
only  with  a  pistol,  discharged  all  his  cartridges,  then 
thrcAV  the  weapon  at  his  advancing  opponents,  and  calmly 
faced  them,  crossing  his  hands  over  his  breast  as  a  pro- 
tection. They  fired  at  him,  notwithstanding  his  defence- 
less situation,  and  one  ball  piercing  his  right  hand  in- 
flicted a  wound,  but  not  a  mortal  one,  in  his  side.  Four 
men  were  killed  and  several  others  badly  wounded  in 
this  fight. 

When  a  father  and  son  were  arrested  by  a  vigilance 
committee  at  Santa  Clara  for  horse-stealing,  and  were 
sentenced  to  receive  thirty- six  lashes  apiece,  the  son 
begged  that  he  might  take  his  father's  share  as  well  as 
his  own. 

Men  died  well  in  California.  In  November,  1851,  two 
horse-thieves  were  hung  by  a  vigilance  committee  at 
Stockton.  One  of  them,  who  was  very  young,  smoked  a 
cigar  up  to  the  last  moment,  and  made  a  little  speech  in 
which  he  explained  that  the  act  was  not  dictated  by  ir- 
reverence, but  that  he  desired  to  die  like  a  man.  When 
Stuart,  a  noted  robber  and  horse-thief  was  being  tried 


PIONEER  LIFE  115 

for  his  life  by  the  Vigilance  Committee  in  San  Francisco, 
he  complained  that  the  proceedings  were  "tiresome," 
and  asked  for  a  chew  of  tobacco. 

The  death  of  this  man  was  one  of  the  most  impressive 
scenes  ever  witnessed  upon  this  blood-stained  earth.  Sen- 
tence having  been  passed  upon  the  prisoner  the  Com- 
mittee, numbering  one  thousand  men,  came  down  from 
the  hall  where  they  met  and  formed  in  the  street,  three 
abreast.  They  comprised,  with  some  exceptions,  the 
best,  the  most  substantial,  the  most  public-spirited  citi- 
zens of  San  Francisco.  In  the  centre  was  Stuart,  hand- 
cuffed and  pinioned,  but  perfectly  self-possessed  and 
cool.  A  gallows  had  been  erected  some  distance  off,  and 
the  procession  moved  up  Battery  Street,  followed  by  a 
great  throng  of  men.  There  was  no  confusion,  no  out- 
cry, no  apparent  excitement,  —  not  a  sound,  indeed,  ex- 
cept the  tread  of  many  feet  upon  the  planked  streets, 
every  footfall  sounding  the  prisoner's  knell. 

It  was  of  this  event  that  Bret  Harte  wrote  in  his  Bo- 
hemian Days  in  San  Francisco:  "Under  the  reign  of 
the  Committee  the  lawless  and  vicious  class  were  more 
appalled  by  the  moral  spectacle  of  several  thousand 
black-coated,  serious-minded  business  men  in  embattled 
procession  than  by  mere  force  of  arms." 

When  they  reached  the  gallows,  a  rope  was  placed 
around  the  prisoner's  neck,  and  even  then,  except  for  a 
slight  paleness,  there  was  no  change  in  his  appearance. 
Amid  the  breathless  silence  of  the  whole  assemblage 
Stuart,  standing  under  the  gallows,  said,  "I  die  recon- 
ciled. My  sentence  is  just."  His  crimes  had  been  many, 
and  he  seemed  to  accept  his  death  as  the  proper  and 
almost  welcome  result  of  his  deeds.  He  was  a  man  of 
intellect,  and,  hardened  criminal  though  he  was,  the 
instinct  of  expiation  asserted  itself  in  his  breast. 

In  July,  185 1,  a  Spanish  woman  was  tried  and  con- 
demned by  an  impromptu  vigilance  committee  for  killing 


ii6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

an  American  who,  she  declared,  had  insulted  her.  Being 
sentenced  to  be  hanged  forthwith,  she  carefully  arranged 
her  dress,  neatly  coiled  her  hair,  and  walked  quietly  and 
firmly  to  the  gallows.  There  she  made  a  short  speech, 
saying  that  she  would  do  the  same  thing  again  if  she 
were  permitted  to  live,  and  were  insulted  in  the  same 
way.  Then  she  bade  the  crowd  farewell,  adjusted  the 
noose  with  her  own  hands,  and  so  passed  bravely  away. 

A  few  years  later  at  Moquelumne  Hill,  a  young  Welsh- 
man, scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  met  death  in  a  very  simi- 
lar manner,  and  for  a  similar  offence.  On  the  scaffold  he 
turned  to  one  of  the  by-standers,  and  said,  "Did  you 
ever  know  anything  bad  of  me  before  this  affair  oc- 
curred.?" The  answer  was,  "No,  Jack."  "Well,"  said 
the  youth,  "  tell  those  Camp  Saco  fellows  that  I  would 
do  the  same  thing  again  and  be  hung  rather  than  put  up 
with  an  insult."  Men  like  these  died  for  a  point  of  honor, 
as  much  as  did  Alexander  Hamilton. 

But  far  higher  was  the  heroism  of  those  who  suffered 
or  died  for  others,  and  not  for  themselves.  No  event,  not 
even  the  discovery  of  gold,  stirred  California  more  pro- 
foundly than  did  the  death  of  James  King.  In  1856,  King, 
the  editor  of  the  "  Bulletin,"  was  waging  single-handed 
a  vigorous  warfare  against  the  political  corruption  then 
rife  in  California,  and  especially  against  the  supineness  of 
the  city  officials  in  respect  to  gambling  and  prostitution. 
He  had  given  out  that  he  would  not  accept  a  challenge 
to  a  duel,  but  he  was  well  aware  of  the  risk  that  he  ran. 
San  Francisco,  even  at  that  time,  indulged  in  an  easy 
toleration  of  vice,  and  only  some  striking,  some  terrible 
event  could  have  aroused  the  conscience  of  the  public. 

Among  the  city  officials  whose  hatred  Mr.  King  had 
incurred  was  James  Casey,  a  typical  New  York  politi- 
cian, and  a  former  convict,  yet  not  wholly  a  bad  man. 
The  two  men,  King  and  Casey,  really  represented  two 
stages  of  morality,  two  kinds  of  government.  Their  per- 


PIONEER  LIFE  117 

sonal  conflict  was  in  a  condensed  form  the  clashing  of 
the  higher  and  the  lower  ideals.  Casey,  meeting  King 
on  the  street,  called  upon  him  to  "draw  and  defend  him- 
self " ;  but  King,  being  without  a  weapon,  calmly  folded 
his  arms  and  faced  his  enemy.  Casey  fired,  and  King 
fell  to  the  ground,  mortally  wounded. 

"  It  was  expedient  that  one  man  should  die  for  the 
people";  and  the  death  of  King  did  far  more  than  his 
life  could  have  done  to  purify  the  political  and  social 
atmosphere  of  California.  On  the  day  following  the  mur- 
der, a  Vigilance  Committee  was  organized,  and  an  Execu- 
tive Committee,  consisting  chiefly  of  those  who  had  man- 
aged the  first  Vigilance  Committee  in  185 1,  was  chosen 
as  the  practical  ruler  of  the  city.  It  was  supported  by 
a  band  of  three  thousand  men,  distributed  in  companies, 
armed,  officered  and  well  drilled.  For  two  months  and  a 
half  the  Executive  Committee  remained  in  office,  exer- 
cising its  power  with  marked  judgment  and  moderation. 
Four  men  were  hung,  many  more  were  banished,  and 
the  city  was  purged.  Having  accomplished  its  work  the 
Committee  disbanded,  but  its  members  and  sympathizers 
secured  control  of  the  municipal  government  through 
the  ordinary  legal  channels,  and  for  twenty  years  ad- 
ministered the  affairs  of  the  city  with  honesty  and  eco- 
nomy. 

The  task  in  185 1  had  been  mainly  to  rid  the  city  of 
Australian  convicts ;  in  1856  it  was  to  correct  the  politi- 
cal abuses  introduced  by  professional  politicians  from 
the  East,  especially  from  New  York ;  and  in  each  case 
the  task  was  successfully  accomplished,  without  unneces- 
sary bloodshed,  and  even  with  mercy. 

Nor  was  Casey's  end  without  pathos,  and  even  dignity. 
On  the  scaffold  he  was  thinking  not  of  himself,  but  of 
the  old  mother  whom  he  had  left  in  New  York.  "  Gen- 
tlemen," he  said,  "I  stand  before  you  as  a  man  about  to 
come  into  the  presence  of  God,  and  I  declare  before  Him 


ii8  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

that  I  am  no  murderer !  I  have  an  aged  mother  whom 
I  wish  not  to  hear  that  I  am  guilty  of  murder.  I  am  not. 
My  early  education  taught  me  to  repay  an  injury,  and  I 
have  done  nothing  more.  The  *  Alta  California,'  '  Chron- 
icle,' '  Globe,'  and  other  papers  in  the  city  connect  my  name 
with  murder  and  assassination.  I  am  no  murderer.  Let  no 
newspaper  in  its  weekly  or  monthly  editions  dare  pub- 
lish to  the  world  that  I  am  one.  Let  it  not  get  to  the 
ears  of  my  mother  that  I  am.  O  God,  I  appeal  for  mercy 
for  my  past  sins,  which  are  many.  O  Lord  Jesus,  unto 
thee  I  resign  my  spirit.  O  mother,  mother,  mother!" 

The  sinking  of  the  steamer, "  Central  America,"  off  the 
coast  of  Georgia,  in  1857,  is  an  event  now  almost  for- 
gotten, and  yet  it  deserves  to  be  remembered  forever. 
The  steamer  was  on  her  way  from  Aspinwall  to  New 
York,  with  passengers  and  gold  from  San  Francisco, 
when  she  sprang  a  leak  and  began  to  sink.  The  women 
and  children,  fifty-three  in  all,  were  taken  off  to  a  small 
brig  which  happened  to  come  in  sight,  leaving  on  board, 
without  boats  or  rafts,  five  hundred  men,  all  of  whom 
went  down,  and  of  whom  all  but  eighty  were  drowned. 
Though  many  were  armed,  and  nearly  all  were  rough  in 
appearance,  they  were  content  that  the  women  and  chil- 
dren should  be  saved  first ;  and  if  here  and  there  a 
grumble  was  heard,  it  received  little  encouragement. 
Never  did  so  many  men  face  death  near  at  hand  more 
quietly  or  decorously.^ 

And  yet  the  critic  tells  us  about  the  "perverse  roman- 
ticism "  of  Mr.  Bret  Harte's  California  tales  ! 

One  incident  more,  and  this  brief  record  of  California 

1  The  Captain  calmly  directed  the  transfer  of  the  women  and  children, 
kept  his  place  on  the  paddle-box,  and  went  down  with  the  others.  He  was 
James  Lewis  Hemdon,  a  Commander  in  the  United  States  Navy,  and  the 
explorer  of  the  Amazon.  A  monument  to  his  memory  was  erected  by 
brother  officers  in  the  grounds  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis.  The 
steamer  was  bringing  $2,000,000  in  gold,  and  the  loss  of  this  treasure  in- 
creased the  commercial  panic  then  prevailing  in  the  Atlantic  States. 


PIONEER  LIFE  119 

heroism,  which  might  be  extended  indefinitely,  shall 
close.  Charles  Fairfax,  the  tenth  Baron  of  that  name,  ^ 
whose  family  have  lived  for  many  years  in  Virginia,  was 
attacked  without  warning  by  a  cowardly  assassin,  named 
Lee.  This  man  stabbed  Fairfax  twice,  and  he  was  rais- 
ing his  arm  for  a  third  thrust  when  his  victim  covered 
him  with  a  pistol.  Lee,  seeing  the  pistol,  dropped  his 
knife,  stepped  back,  and  threw  up  his  hands,  exclaiming, 
"  I  am  unarmed  !  " 

"  Shoot  the  damned  scoundrel ! "  cried  a  friend  of 
Fairfax  who  stood  by. 

Fairfax,  holding  the  pistol,  with  the  blood  streaming 
from  his  wounds,  said :  "  You  are  an  assassin  !  You  have 
murdered  me !  Your  life  is  in  my  hands ! "  And  then, 
after  a  moment,  gazing  on  him,  he  added,  "  But  for  the 
sake  of  your  poor  sick  wife  and  of  your  children,  I  will 
spare  you."  He  then  uncocked  the  pistol,  and  fell  faint- 
ing in  the  arms  of  his  friend. 

All  California  rang  with  the  nobility  of  the  deed. 

1  Baron  Fairfax  of  Cameron  in  the  Peerage  of  Scotland.  Many  stories 
are  told  of  his  adventures  in  California. 


CHAPTER  VII 

PIONEER   LAW   AND   LAWLESSNESS 

California  certainly  contained  what  Borthwick  describes 
as  "the  elite  of  the  most  desperate  and  consummate 
scoundrels  from  every  part  of  the  world  "  ;  but  they  were 
in  a  very  small  minority,  and  the  rather  common  idea 
that  the  miners  were  a  mass  of  brutal  and  ignorant  men 
is  a  wild  misconception.  An  English  writer  once  re- 
marked, somewhat  hysterically,  "  Bret  Harte  had  to  deal 
with  countries  and  communities  of  an  almost  unexampled 
laxity,  a  laxity  passing  the  laxity  of  savages,  the  laxity  of 
civilized  men  grown  savage." 

Far  more  accurate  is  the  observation  of  that  eminent 
critic,  Mr.  Watts-Dunton  :  "  Bret  Harte's  characters  are 
amenable  to  no  laws  except  the  improvised  laws  of  the 
camp,  and  the  final  arbiter  is  either  the  six-shooter  or  the 
rope  of  Judge  Lynch.  And  yet  underlying  this  apparent 
lawlessness  there  is  that  deep  law-abiding-ness  which  the 
late  Grant  Allen  despised  as  being  the  Anglo-Saxon 
characteristic." 

The  almost  spontaneous  manner  in  which  mining  laws 
came  into  existence,  and  the  ready  obedience  which  the 
miners  yielded  to  them,  show  how  correct  is  the  view 
taken  by  Mr.  Watts-Dunton.  What  constituted  owner- 
ship of  a  claim  ;  how  it  must  be  proved ;  how  many  square 
feet  a  claim  might  include ;  how  long  and  by  what  means 
title  to  a  claim  could  be  preserved  without  working  it ; 
when  a  "find"  should  become  the  property  of  the  indi- 
vidual discoverer,  and  when  it  should  accrue  to  the  part- 
nership of  which  he  was  a  member, — all  these  matters 
and  many  more  were  regulated  by  a  code  quickly  formed, 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS        121 

and  universally  respected.  Thus  a  lump  of  gold  weighing 
half  an  ounce  or  more,  if  observed  before  it  was  thrown 
into  the  cradle,  belonged  to  the  finder,  and  not  to  the 
partnership. 

In  the  main,  mining  rules  were  the  same  throughout 
the  State,  but  they  varied  somewhat  according  to  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  each  "  diggings  "  ;  and  the  cus- 
tom was  for  the  miners  to  hold  a  meeting,  when  they 
became  sufficiently  numerous  at  any  point,  and  make 
such  laws  as  they  deemed  expedient.  If  any  controversy 
arose  under  them  it  was  settled  by  the  Alcalde. 

In  respect  to  this  office,  again,  the  miners  showed  the 
same  instinct  for  law  and  order,  and  the  same  practical 
readiness  to  make  use  of  such  means  as  were  at  hand.^ 
The  Alcalde  (Al  Cadi)  was  originally  a  Spanish  official, 
corresponding  in  many  respects  with  our  Justice  of  the 
Peace.  But  in  the  mining  camps,  the  Alcalde,  usually  an 
American,  was  often  given,  by  a  kind  of  tacit  agreement, 
very  full,  almost  despotic  powers,  combining  the  authority 
of  a  Magistrate  with  that  of  a  Selectman  and  Chief  of 
Police. 

The  first  Alcalde  of  Marysville  was  the  young  lawyer 
already  mentioned,  Stephen  J.  Field,  and  he  administered 
affairs  with  such  firmness  that  the  town,  although  har- 
boring many  desperate  persons, — this  was  in  1850, — 
gamblers,  thieves  and  cut-throats,  was  as  orderly  as  a 
New  England  village.  He  caused  the  streets  and  side- 
walks to  be  kept  clean  and  in  repair;  he  employed  men 
to  grade  the  banks  of  the  river  so  as  to  facilitate  landing, 
and  he  did  many  other  things  for  the  good  of  the  com- 
munity, but  really  with  no  authority  except  that  of  com- 
mon consent.  Sitting  as  a  judge,  he  did  not  hesitate  to 

1  Bayard  Taylor,  who  visited  the  mining  camps  in  the  winter  of  '49, 
found  them  well  organized  under  the  rule  of  an  Alcalde.  "  Nothing  in  Cal- 
ifornia," he  wrote, "  seemed  more  miraculous  to  me  than  this  spontaneous 
evolution  of  social  order  from  the  worst  elements  of  anarchy." 


122  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

sentence  some  criminals  to  be  flogged.  There  was  no 
law  for  it ;  but  it  was  the  only  punishment  that  was  both 
adequate  and  practicable,  for  the  town  contained  no 
prison  or  "lock-up." 

And  yet,  so  far  as  was  possible,  Alcalde  Field  observed 
the  ancient  forms  with  true  Anglo-Saxon  scrupulosity. 
"  In  civil  cases,"  he  relates,  "  I  always  called  a  jury  if  the 
parties  desired  one ;  and  in  criminal  cases  when  the  offence 
was  of  a  high  grade  I  went  through  the  form  of  calling  a 
grand  jury,  and  having  an  indictment  found ;  and  in  all 
cases  I  appointed  an  attorney  to  represent  the  people, 
and  also  one  to  represent  the  accused,  when  that  was 
necessary." 

Spanish  and  Mexicans,  as  well  as  Americans,  reaped 
the  benefit  of  the  change  in  government.  Property,  real 
estate  especially,  rose  in  value  at  once,  and  justice  was 
administered  as  it  never  had  been  administered  before. 
An  entry  in  the  diary  of  the  Reverend  Walter  Colton, 
Chaplain  in  the  United  States  Navy,  and  Alcalde  of 
Monterey,  whose  book  has  already  been  cited,  runs  as 
follows  :  — 

"  September  i\,  1849.  ^  empanelled  to-day  the  first  jury 
ever  summoned  in  California.  One  third  were  Califor- 
nians,one  third  Mexicans,  one  third  Americans.  The  trial 
was  conducted  in  three  languages  and  lasted  six  hours. 
The  result  was  very  satisfactory.  The  inhabitants  who 
witnessed  the  trial  said  it  was  what  they  liked,  —  that 
there  could  be  no  bribery  in  it,  —  that  the  opinion  of 
twelve  honest  men  should  set  the  case  forever  at  rest. 
And  so  it  did.  ...  If  there  is  anything  on  earth  for 
which  I  would  die,  beside  religion,  it  is  the  right  of  trial 
by  jury.'* 

At  first  no  one  quite  knew  what  laws  were  in  force  in 
California.  The  territory  became  a  part  of  the  United 
States  by  means  of  the  treaty  with  Mexico  which  was 
proclaimed  on  July  4,  1848,  but  California  was  not  ad- 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS        123 

mitted  as  a  State  until  1850,  and  in  the  mean  time  it  was 
a  question  whether  the  laws  of  Mexico  still  prevailed,  or 
the  common  law,  or  what.  In  this  situation  the  Alcaldes 
usually  fell  back  upon  common  sense  and  the  laws  of  the 
State  from  which  they  happened  to  come. 

Others  had  recourse  to  an  older  dispensation.  Thus, 
on  one  occasion  the  Alcalde  of  Santa  Cruz  had  before  him 
a  man  who  was  found  guilty  of  shaving  the  hair  from  the 
tail  of  a  fine  American  horse,  and  the  sentence  of  the 
court  was  that  the  criminal  should  have  his  own  head 
shaved.  The  young  attorney  who  represented  the  de- 
fendant thereupon  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  with  great 
indignation,  demanded  to  be  told  what  law  or  authority 
there  was  for  so  unusual  a  punishment.  "  I  base  that 
judgment,"  said  the  Alcalde  with  solemnity,  "on  the 
oldest  law  in  the  world,  on  the  law  of  Moses.  Go  home, 
young  man,  and  read  your  Bible." 

In  another  case  a  Spaniard  was  suing  for  a  divorce 
from  his  wife  on  the  ground  of  infidelity;  but  the  Alcalde, 
an  American,  refused  it,  inasmuch  as  the  man  was  un- 
able to  swear  that  he  had  been  faithful  himself.  "  Is  that 
United  States  law .? "  asked  the  suitor  in  naive  amaze- 
ment. "  I  don't  know  about  that,"  replied  the  Alcalde ; 
"but  it  is  the  law  by  which  I  am  governed,  — the  law  of 
the  Bible,  and  a  good  law  too." 

The  Alcalde  of  Placerville  very  properly  refused  to 
marry  a  certain  man  and  woman,  because  the  woman  was 
already  married  to  a  man  who  had  been  absent  for  three 
months.  But  another  Alcalde  who  happened  to  be  present 
intervened.  "  Any  man  in  California,"  he  declared,  "  who 
has  a  wife,  and  so  fine  looking  a  wife  as  I  see  here  before 
me,  and  who  remains  absent  from  her  for  three  months, 
must  be  insane,  Mr.  Alcalde,  or  dead ;  and  in  either  case 
the  lady  is  free  to  marry  again.  I  am  Alcalde  of  Santa 
Cruz,  and  will  with  great  pleasure  make  you  man  and 
wife.    Step  forward,  madam,  step  forward ;  I  feel  sure 


124  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

you  will  get  through  this  trying  occasion  without  fainting, 
if  you  make  the  effort,  and  do  not  give  way  to  your  natu- 
ral shyness.  Step  forward,  my  dear  sir,  by  the  side  of 
your  blushing  bride,  and  I  will  make  you  a  happy  man." 

One  other  case  that  was  tried  in  an  Alcalde's  court  is 
so  illustrative  of  California  life  that  the  Reader  will  per- 
haps pardon  its  insertion  at  length. 

"  Bill  Liddle,  conductor  of  a  mule  train  of  eight  large 
American  mules,  had  just  started  from  Sacramento  for 
a  mining  camp  far  in  the  interior.  He  was  obliged  to 
pass  a  dangerous  trail  about  two  miles  long,  cut  in  the 
side  of  a  steep  cliff  overhanging  the  river.  The  trail  was 
only  wide  enough  for  a  loaded  mule  to  walk  on.  In  the 
lead  was  *01d  Kate,'  a  heavy,  square-built,  bay  mule.  Bill 
always  said  that  she  understood  English,  and  he  always 
spoke  to  her  as  if  that  were  the  fact,  and  we  were  often 
forced  to  laugh  at  the  wonderful  intelligence  she  showed 
in  understanding  and  obeying  him.  Sometimes  she  broke 
into  the  stable,  unlatching  the  door,  went  to  the  bin 
where  the  barley  was  kept  in  sacks,  raised  the  cover, 
took  out  a  sack,  set  it  up  on  one  end,  ripped  the  sewing 
as  neatly  as  Bill  could,  and  then  helped  herself  to  the 
contents.  On  such  occasions  Bill  would  shake  his  head, 
and  exclaim,  *  I  wonder  who  Kate  is !  Oh,  I  wish  I  knew, 
for  of  course  she  is  some  famous  woman  condemned  to 
live  on  earth  as  a  mule !  * 

"The  train  had  advanced  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  on 
the  trail  just  described,  Bill  riding  behind,  when  he  was 
startled  by  hearing  a  loud  bray  from  Kate,  and  all  the 
mules  stopped.  Ahead  was  a  return  train  of  fifteen  Cali- 
fornian  mules,  approaching  on  a  jog  trot.  The  two  trains 
could  not  pass,  and  there  was  not  space  for  Bill's  large 
and  loaded  mules  to  turn  around.  Bill  raised  himself  in 
his  saddle  and  furiously  called  on  the  other  conductor  to 
stop.  He  did  so,  but  refused  to  turn  his  mules  around, 
although  Bill  explained  to  him  the  necessity.  At  last, 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS         125 

after  much  talk,  the  other  conductor  started  up  his 
mules,  shouting  and  cracking  his  whip  and  urging  them 
on.  Meanwhile  Old  Kate  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
trail,  her  fore-legs  well  apart,  her  nose  dropped  lower  than 
usual,  and  her  long,  heavy  ears  thrown  forward  as  if 
aimed  at  the  head  mule  of  the  other  train,  while  her  large 
bright  eyes  were  fixed  on  his  motions.  Seeing  the  dan- 
ger. Bill  called  out,  ^  Kate,  old  girl,  go  for  them ;  pitch 
them  all,  and  the  driver  with  them,  to  hell !  *  Thereupon 
Kate  gave  an  unearthly  bray,  dropped  on  her  knees  with 
her  head  stretched  out  close  along  the  rocks,  her  neck 
and  lower  jaw  rubbing  the  trail,  and  received  the  leading 
mule  across  her  neck.  In  a  second  more  that  mule  was 
thrown  into  the  air,  and  fell  into  the  river  far  below. 

"  Two  or  three  times  the  conductor  of  the  other  train 
made  a  similar  attempt,  urging  his  mules  forward,  and  did 
not  stop  until  five  of  his  mules  had  gone  into  the  river. 
Then  he  said,  *  Well,  I  will  go  back,  but  when  we  get  out 
of  this  trail  you  and  I  will  settle  accounts.'  Bill  drew  his 
revolver  and  his  knife,  made  sure  that  they  were  all 
right,  and  as  soon  as  they  emerged  from  the  cliff  rode 
up  to  the  other  conductor  with  his  revolver  in  his  hand, 
and  said,  *  Shall  we  settle  this  business  here,  or  shall  we 
go  before  the  Alcalde  of  the  next  diggings } '  The  man 
looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  silence,  and  then  said, 
*  Damn  me  if  you  don't  look  like  that  she-devil  of  a  mule 
of  yours  that  threw  my  mules  down  the  cliff.  Are  you 
and  she  any  blood  relation  that  you  know  of .? '  Not  at 
all  offended,  Bill  answered,  *  I  can't  say  positively  that 
we  are,  but  one  thing  I  can  say :  I  would  rather  be  full 
brother  to  a  mule  that  would  act  as  Kate  did  to-day,  than 
a  forty- second  cousin  to  a  man  that  would  act  as  you 
did.'  'Well,'  said  the  other,  *put  up  your  revolver,  and 
let  us  settle  matters  before  the  Alcalde.' 

"  The  mule-drivers  found  the  Alcalde  working  in  the 
bottom  of  a  shaft  which  he  was  sinking.  They  asked  him 


126  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

to  come  up,  but  he  said  that  was  unnecessary,  as  he  could 
hear  and  settle  the  case  where  he  was.  Accordingly,  he 
turned  a  bucket  upside  down,  sat  down  on  it,  and  lit  a 
cigar,  leaning  his  back  against  the  wall  of  the  shaft.  The 
two  conductors  then  kissed  a  Bible  which  the  Alcalde 
had  sent  for,  and  swore  to  tell  the  truth ;  and  they  gave 
their  testimony  from  the  top  of  the  shaft,  the  driver  of 
the  unloaded  mules  asking  for  six  hundred  dollars  dam- 
ages, five  hundred  dollars  for  his  mules  and  one  hun- 
dred dollars  for  the  pack  saddles  lost  with  them.  When 
they  had  finished,  the  Alcalde  said,  *I  know  the 
trail  well,  and  I  find  for  the  defendant,  and  order  the 
plaintiff  to  pay  the  costs  of  court,  which  are  only  one 
ounce.'  Thereupon  the  Alcalde  arose,  turned  up  his 
bucket  and  began  to  shovel  the  earth  into  it.  As  he 
worked  on,  he  told  the  plaintiff  to  go  to  the  store  kept 
by  one  Meyer  not  far  off,  and  weigh  out  the  ounce  of 
dust  and  leave  it  there  for  him.  This  was  done  without 
hesitation.  Bill  went  along,  treated  the  plaintiff  to  a  drink, 
and  paid  for  a  bottle  of  the  best  brandy  that  Meyer  had, 
to  be  given  in  the  evening  to  the  Alcalde  and  his  part- 
ner as  they  returned  from  work."^ 

California  magistrates  were  somewhat  informal  for 
several  years.  On  one  occasion,  during  a  long  argument 
by  counsel,  the  Alcalde  interrupted  with  the  remark  that 
the  point  in  question  was  a  difficult  one,  and  he  would 
like  to  consult  an  authority ;  whereupon,  the  clerk,  un- 
derstanding what  was  meant,  produced  a  demijohn  and 
glasses  from  a  receptacle  beneath  the  bench,  and  judge 
and  counsel  refreshed  themselves.  A  characteristic  story 
is  told  of  Judge  Searls,  a  San  Francisco  magistrate  who 
had  several  times  fined  for  contempt  of  court  a  lawyer 
named  Francis  J.  Dunn.  Dunn  was  a  very  able  but  dis- 
sipated and  eccentric  man,  and  apt  to  be  late,  and  on  one 
such  occasion  the  judge  fined  him  fifty  dollars.  "  I  did 
1  William  Grey,  "  Pioneer  Times  in  California." 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS         127 

not  know  that  I  was  late,  your  Honor,"  said  Mr.  Dunn, 
with  mock  contrition ;  "  I  have  no  watch,  and  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  get  one  if  I  have  to  pay  the  fines  which 
your  Honor  imposes  upon  me."  Then,  after  a  pause  of 
reflection,  he  looked  up  and  said:  **WiIl  your  Honor 
lend  me  fifty  dollars  so  that  I  can  pay  this  last  fine } " 
"Mr.  Clerk,"  said  the  judge,  leaning  over  the  bench, 
"  remit  that  fine :  the  State  can  afford  to  lose  the  money 
better  than  I  can." 

But  informality  is  not  inconsistent  with  justice.  The 
Pioneers  did  not  like  to  have  men,  though  they  were 
judges,  take  themselves  too  seriously ;  but  the  great 
majority  of  them  were  law-abiding,  intelligent,  industri- 
ous and  kind-hearted.  It  was,  as  has  been  said  already, 
a  picked  and  sifted  population.  The  number  of  profes- 
sional men  and  of  well-educated  men  was  extraordinary. 
They  were  a  magnanimous  people.  As  the  Reverend  Dr. 
Bushnell  remarked,  "With  all  the  violence  and  savage 
wrongs  and  dark  vices  that  have  heretofore  abounded 
among  the  Pioneers,  they  seldom  do  a  mean  thing." 

An  example  of  this  magnanimity  was  the  action  of 
California  in  regard  to  the  State  debt  amounting  to  five 
million  dollars.  It  was  illegal,  having  been  contracted 
in  violation  of  the  State  Constitution,  and  the  money  had 
been  spent  chiefly  in  enriching  those  corrupt  politicians 
and  their  friends  who  obtained  possession  of  the  Cali- 
fornia government  in  the  first  years.  But  the  Pioneers 
were  too  generous  and  too  proud  of  the  good  name  of 
their  State  to  stand  upon  their  legal  rights.  They  were 
as  anxious  to  pay  this  unjust  debt  as  Pennsylvania  and 
Mississippi  had  been  in  former  years  to  repudiate  their 
just  debts.  The  matter  was  put  to  popular  vote,  and  the 
bonds  were  paid. 

Stephen  J.  Field  remarked  in  his  old  age,  "  I  shall 
never  forget  the  noble  and  generous  people  that  I  found 
in  California,  in  all  ranks  of  life."  Another  Pioneer,  Dr. 


128  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

J.  D.  B.  Stillman,  wrote,  "  There  are  more  intelligence 
and  generous  good  feeling  here  than  in  any  other  country 
that  I  have  ever  seen."  ^  "  The  finest  body  of  men  ever 
gathered  together  in  the  world's  history,"  is  the  declara- 
tion of  another  Pioneer,^  and  even  this  extreme  state- 
ment is  borne  out  by  the  contemporary  records. 

That  there  was  a  minority  equally  remarkable  for  its 
bad  qualities,  is  also  unquestionable.  Moreover,  many 
men  who  at  home  would  have  been  classed  as  good  citi- 
zens gave  way  in  California  to  their  avarice  or  other  bad 
passions.  Whatever  depravity  there  was  in  a  man's  heart 
showed  itself  without  fear  and  without  restraint.  The 
very  Pioneer,  Dr.  Stillman,  who  has  just  been  quoted  to 
the  effect  that  California  had,  on  the  whole,  the  best 
population  in  the  world,  gives  us  also  the  other  side  of 
the  picture  :  "  Last  night  I  saw  a  man  lying  on  the  wet 
ground,  unknown,  unconscious,  uncared  for,  and  dying. 
Money  is  the  all-absorbing  object.  There  are  men  who 
would  hang  their  heads  at  home  at  the  mention  of  their 
heartless  avarice.  What  can  be  expected  from  strangers 
when  a  man's  own  friends  abandon  him  because  he  sick- 
ens and  becomes  an  encumbrance!" 

Mrs.  Bates,  whose  account  of  California  is  never  ex- 
aggerated, tells  us  of  a  miner  who,  night  after  night,  de- 
serted his  dying  brother  for  a  gambling  house,  leaving 
him  unattended  and  piteously  crying  for  water  until,  at 
last,  he  expired  alone. 

It  must  be  remembered,  also,  that  the  moral  complex- 
ion of  California  changed  greatly  from  year  to  year. 
The  first  condition  was  almost  an  idyllic  one.  It  was  a 
period  of  honesty  and  good-will  such  as  never  existed 
before,  except  in  the  imagination  of  Rousseau.  There 
were  few  doors,  and  no  locks.  Gold  was  left  for  days  at 
a  time  unguarded  and  untouched.  "  A  year  ago,"  said 

1  "  Seeking  the  Golden  Fleece." 

2  Shucks,  "  Bench  and  Bar  of  California." 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS        129 

the  "Sacramento  Transcript,"  in  October,  1850,  "a 
miner  could  have  left  his  bag  of  dust  exhibited  to  full 
view,  and  absent  himself  a  week.  His  tools  might  have 
remained  unmolested  in  any  ravine  for  months,  and  his 
goods  and  chattels,  bed  and  bedding  might  have  re- 
mained along  the  highway  for  an  indefinite  period  with- 
out being  stolen." 

There  was  much  drinking,  much  gambling,  and  some 
murders  were  committed  in  the  heat  of  passion  ;  but 
nowhere  else  in  the  world,  except  perhaps  in  the  smaller 
villages  of  the  United  States,  was  property  so  safe  as  it 
was  in  California. 

"  I  have  not  heard,"  wrote  Dr.  Stillman  in  1849,  "of  a 
theft  or  crime  of  any  sort.  Firearms  are  thrown  aside 
as  useless,  and  are  given  away  on  the  road."  Grave  dis- 
putes involving  the  title  to  vast  wealth  were  settled  by 
arbitration  without  the  raising  of  a  voice  in  anger  or 
controversy.  Even  in  Sacramento  and  San  Francisco, 
merchants  left  their  goods  in  their  canvas  houses  and 
tents,  open  to  any  who  might  choose  to  enter,  while 
they  went  to  church  or  walked  over  the  hills  on  Sundays. 
Their  gold  was  equally  unguarded,  and  equally  safe. 

"  It  was  wonderful,"  said  a  Pioneer  early  in  the  Fifties, 
"  how  well  we  got  on  in  '49  without  any  sort  of  government 
beyond  the  universally  sanctioned  action  of  the  people, 
and  I  have  often  since  questioned  in  my  own  mind  if  we 
might  not  have  got  on  just  the  same  ever  since,  and 
saved  all  the  money  we  have  paid  out  for  thieving  legis- 
lation and  selfish  office-holders."^ 

The  change  came  in  the  late  Summer  and  early  Autumn 
of  1850,  and  was  chiefly  owing  to  the  influx  of  convicts 
from  Australia  and  elsewhere, —  "low-browed,  heavy- 
featured  men,  with  cold,  steel-gray  eyes."  In  a  less  de- 
gree the  change  was  also  due  to  the  deterioration  of 
a  small  minority  of  Americans  and  Europeans,  whose 

1  William  Grey,  "  Pioneer  Times  in  California.*' 


I30  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

moral  stamina  was  not  equal  to  life  in  a  lawless  com- 
munity, although  at  first  that  community  was  lawless 
only  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word  ;  —  it  had  no  laws 
and  needed  none.  As  one  Pioneer  wrote,  "  There  is  no 
law  regarded  here  but  the  natural  law  of  justice." 

Beginning  with  the  Autumn  of  1850,  things  went  from 
bad  to  worse  until  February,  185 1,  when  robbery  and 
murder  in  San  Francisco  were  stopped  by  the  first  Vigi- 
lance Committee ;  and  in  the  mines  the  same  drastic 
remedy  was  applied,  but  not  always  with  the  same  mod- 
eration. A  Sacramento  paper  said  in  December,  1850: 
**  It  is  an  undeniable  fact  that  crime  of  almost  every  de- 
scription is  on  the  increase  in  California,  especially  horse- 
stealing, robbery,  arson  and  murder.  In  the  city  of  Sac- 
ramento alone,  since  last  April,  we  should  judge  there 
have  been  at  least  twenty  murders  committed,  and  we 
are  not  aware  that  any  murderer  has  suffered  capital 
punishment,  or  any  other  kind  of  punishment.  We  have 
got  used  to  these  things,  and  look  upon  it  as  a  matter  of 
course  that  somebody  will  be  killed  and  robbed  as  often 
as  once  a  week  at  least ;  and  yet  notwithstanding  all  this 
our  people  generally  are  composed  of  the  most  orderly, 
respectable  citizens  of  the  United  States.  The  laws  fur- 
nish us  no  protection  because  they  are  not  enforced." 

But  the  Reader  may  ask,  why  were  the  laws  not  en- 
forced ?  The  answer  is  that  the  Pioneers  were  too  busy 
to  concern  themselves  with  their  political  duties  or  to 
provide  the  necessary  machinery  for  the  enforcement  of 
the  laws.  State  officers,  municipal  officers,  sherifis,  con- 
stables and  even  judges  were  chosen,  not  because  they 
were  fit  men,  but  because  they  wanted  the  job,  and  no 
better  candidates  offered  themselves.  Moreover,  the  Pio- 
neers did  not  expect  to  become  permanent  residents  of 
California  ;  they  expected  to  get  rich,  off-hand,  and  then 
to  go  home,  and  why  should  they  bother  themselves  about 
elections  or  laws  ?  In  short,  an  attempt  was  made  to  do 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS        131 

without  law,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  it  succeeded  for  a  year 
or  so,  but  broke  down  when  criminals  became  numerous. 

A  letter  from  the  town  of  Sonora,  written  in  July, 
1850,  said :  "  The  people  are  leaving  here  fast.  This  place 
is  much  deeper  in  guilt  than  Sodom  or  Gomorrah.  We 
have  no  society,  no  harmony.  Gambling  and  drunken- 
ness are  the  order  of  the  day." 

In  four  years  there  were  one  thousand  two  hundred 
homicides  in  California.  Almost  every  mile  of  the  trav- 
elled road  from  Monterey,  in  the  southern  part  of  the 
State,  to  San  Francisco,  was  the  scene  of  some  foul  murder 
in  those  eventful  years.  There  was  more  crime  in  the 
southern  mines  than  in  the  northern,  because  the  Mexi- 
cans were  more  numerous  there. 

In  Sonora  County,  in  1850,  there  were  twenty-five 
murders  in  a  single  month,  committed  mainly  by  Mexi- 
cans, Chilians,  and  British  convicts  from  the  penal  col- 
onies. A  night  patrol  was  organized.  Every  American 
tent  had  a  guard  around  it,  and  mining  almost  ceased. 
Murder  and  robbery  had  reached  the  stage  at  which  they 
seriously  interfered  with  business.  This  was  not  to  be 
endured  ;  and  at  a  mass  meeting  held  at  Sonora  on  Au- 
gust 3,  the  following  resolution  was  passed :  "  Resolved : 
That  for  the  safety  of  the  lives  and  property  of  the  citi- 
zens of  this  portion  of  the  country,  notice  shall  be  given 
immediately  ordering  all  Mexicans  and  South  Americans 
to  remove  from  township  No.  2  in  one  week  from  this 
date." 

The  consequence  was  a  melancholy  exodus  of  men, 
women  and  children,  which  included  the  just  and  the 
unjust.  Many  of  them  were  destitute,  and,  as  respects 
the  Mexicans,  many  were  being  banished  from  the  place 
of  their  birth.  "  We  fear,"  remarked  a  contemporary  citi- 
zen, "  that  the  money-making,  merry  old  times  in  Sonora 
are  gone  forever." 

This  was  a  characteristic  Pioneer  remark.  The  "old 


132  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

times"  meant  were  somewhat  less  than  a  year  back; 
and  their  "  merry  "  quality  was,  as  we  have  seen,  consid- 
erably modified  by  robbery  and  murder.  The  point  of 
view  is  much  like  that  of  the  landlord  of  a  hotel  in  Vir- 
ginia City,  where  Bret  Harte  was  once  a  guest.  After  a 
night  disturbed  by  sounds  of  shouting,  scuffling  and 
pistol  shots,  Mr.  Harte  found  his  host  behind  the  counter 
in  the  bar-room  "  with  a  bruised  eye,  a  piece  of  court- 
plaster  extending  from  his  cheek  to  his  forehead,  yet 
withal  a  pleasant  smile  upon  his  face.  Taking  my  cue 
from  this,  I  said  to  him,  *  Well,  landlord,  you  had  rather 
a  lively  time  here  last  night.'  *Yes,'  he  replied,  pleas- 
antly, *  it  was  rather  a  lively  time.'  *  Do  you  often  have 
such  lively  times  in  Virginia  City  } '  I  added,  emboldened 
by  his  cheerfulness.  *  Well,  no,'  he  said  reflectively ; 
*the  fact  is  we've  only  just  opened  yer,  and  last  night 
was  about  the  first  time  that  the  boys  seemed  to  be 
gettin'  really  acquainted  V  " 

The  absence  of  police,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  of  law, 
led  to  deeds  of  violence,  and  to  duelling ;  but  it  also 
tended  to  make  men  polite.  The  civility  with  which 
cases  were  conducted  in  court,  and  the  restraint  shown 
by  lawyers  in  their  comments  upon  one  another  and 
upon  the  witnesses  were  often  spoken  of  in  Cahfornia. 
The  experience  of  Alcalde  Field  in  this  regard  is  interest- 
ing :  —  "I  came  to  California  with  all  those  notions  in 
respect  to  acts  of  violence  which  are  instilled  into  New 
England  youth  ;  if  a  man  were  rude,  I  would  turn  away 
from  him.  But  I  soon  found  that  men  in  California  were 
likely  to  take  very  great  liberties  with  a  person  who 
acted  in  such  a  manner,  and  that  the  only  way  to  get 
along  was  to  hold  every  man  responsible,  and  resent 
every  trespass  upon  one's  rights."^ 

Accordingly,  young  Field  bought  a  brace  of  pistols, 
had  a  sack-coat  made  with  pockets  appropriate  to  con- 

1  S.  J.  Field,  **  Personal  Reminiscences  of  Early  Days  in  California." 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS        133 

tain  them,  and  practised  the  useful  art  of  firing  the 
pistols  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Subsequently  he 
added  a  bowie-knife  to  his  private  arsenal,  and  he  car- 
ried these  weapons  until  the  Summer  of  1854.  "  I  found," 
he  says,  "  that  the  knowledge  that  pistols  were  generally 
worn  created  a  wholesome  courtesy  of  manner  and  lan- 
guage." 

Even  the  members  of  the  State  Legislature  were  armed. 
It  was  a  thing  of  every-day  occurrence  for  a  member, 
when  he  entered  the  House,  to  take  off  his  pistols  and 
lay  them  in  the  drawer  of  his  desk.  Such  an  act  excited 
neither  surprise  nor  comment. 

At  one  time  Mr.  Field  sent  a  challenge  to  a  certain 
Judge  Barbour  who  had  grossly  insulted  him.  Barhpur 
accepted  the  challenge,  but  demanded  that  the  duel 
should  be  fought  with  Colt's  revolvers  and  bowie-knives, 
that  it  should  take  place  in  a  room  only  twenty  feet 
square,  and  that  the  fight  should  continue  until  at  least 
one  of  the  principals  was  dead.  Mr.  Field's  second,  hor- 
rified by  these  savage  proposals,  was  for  rejecting  them  ; 
but  Field  himself  insisted  that  they  should  be  accepted, 
and  the  result  was  what  he  had  anticipated.  Judge  Bar- 
bour, of  his  own  motion,  waived,  first  the  knives,  then 
the  small  room,  and  finally  declined  the  meeting 
altogether.  But  the  very  next  day,  when  Field  had 
stepped  out  of  his  office,  and  was  picking  up  an  arm- 
ful of  wood  for  his  stove,  Barbour  crept  up  behind  him, 
and  putting  a  pistol  to  his  head,  called  upon  Field  to 
draw  and  defend  himself.  Field  did  not  turn  or  move, 
but  spoke  somewhat  as  follows:  "You  infernal  scoun- 
drel, you  cowardly  assassin,  — you  come  behind  my  back, 
and  put  your  revolver  to  my  head,  and  tell  me  to  draw  ! 
You  haven't  the  courage  to  shoot,  —  shoot  and  be 
damned  ! "  And  Barbour  slunk  away. 

Shooting  at  sight,  especially  in  San  Francisco  and  the 
larger  towns,  was  as  common  as  it  is  represented  by  Bret 


134  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Harte.  For  the  few  years,  beginning  with  and  succeed- 
ing 1850,  the  newspapers  were  full  of  such  events.  On 
November  25,  185 1,  the  **Alta  California"  said:  "An- 
other case  of  the  influenza  now  in  fashion  occurred  yester- 
day. We  allude  to  a  mere  shooting-match  in  which  only 
one  of  the  near  by-standers  was  shot  down  in  his  tracks." 

Even  so  late  as  August,  1855,  the  "San  Francisco 
Call "  was  able  to  refer  in  a  modest  way  to  the  "  two  or 
three  shooting  encounters  per  week  "  which  enlivened  its 
columns.^ 

Duels  were  common,  and  in  most  cases  very  serious 
affairs,  the  battle  being  waged  with  destructive  weapons 
and  at  close  range.  As  a  rule,  they  took  place  in  public. 
Thus,  at  a  meeting  between  D.  C.  Broderick,  leader  of  the 
Democratic  Party  in  the  State,  and  one  J.  Cabot  Smith, 
seventy  or  eighty  persons  were  present.  Broderick  was 
wounded,  and  would  have  been  killed  had  not  the  bullet 
first  struck  and  shattered  his  watch. 

These  California  duels  must  be  ascribed  mainly  to  the 
Southern  element,  which  was  strong  numerically,  and 
which,  moreover,  exerted  an  influence  greater  than  its 
numbers  warranted.  One  reason,  perhaps  the  main 
reason,  for  this  predominance  of  the  Southerners  was 
that  the  aristocratic,  semi-feudal  system  which  they 
represented  had  a  more  dignified,  more  dashing  aspect 
than  the  plain  democratic  views  in  which  the  Northern 
and  Western  men  had  been  educated.  It  made  the  indi- 
vidual of  more  importance.  Upon  this  point  Professor 
Royce  makes  an  acute  remark :  "  The  type  of  the 
Northern  man  who  has  assumed  Southern  fashions,  and 
not  always  the  best  Southern  fashions,  has  often  been 
observed  in  California  life.  The  Northern  man  frequently 
felt  commonplace,  simple-minded,  undignified,  beside  his 
brother  from  the  border  or  the  plantation.  .  .  .  The 
Northern   man  admired  his  fluency,  his  vigor,  his  in- 

1  Journalistic  affrays  were  frequent.  See  page  192  infra. 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS         135 

vective,  his  ostentatious  courage,  his  absolute  confidence 
about  all  matters  of  morals,  of  politics,  of  propriety,  and 
the  inscrutable  union  in  his  public  discourse  of  sweet 
reasonableness  with  ferocious  intolerance." 

The  extreme  type  of  Southerner,  as  he  appeared  in 
California,  is  immortalized  in  Colonel  Starbottle.  The 
moment  when  this  strange  planet  first  swam  into  Bret 
Harte's  ken  seems  to  have  been  seized  and  recorded 
with  accuracy  by  his  friend,  Mr.  Noah  Brooks.  "  In 
Sacramento  he  and  I  met  Colonel  Starbottle,  who  had, 
of  course,  another  name.  He  wore  a  tall  silk  hat  and 
loosely-fitting  clothes,  and  he  carried  on  his  left  arm  by 
its  crooked  handle  a  stout  walking-stick.  The  Colonel 
was  a  dignified  and  benignant  figure ;  in  politics  he  was 
everybody's  friend.  A  gubernatorial  election  was  pend- 
ing, and  with  the  friends  of  Haight  he  stood  at  the  hotel 
bar,  and  as  they  raised  their  glasses  to  their  lips  he  said, 
*Here  *s  to  the  Coming  Event !'  Nobody  asked  at  that 
stage  of  the  canvass  what  the  coming  event  would  be, 
and  when  the  good  Colonel  stood  in  the  same  place  with 
the  friends  of  Gorham,  he  gave  the  same  toast,  *The 
Coming  Event !  *  " 

This  may  have  been  a  certain  Dr.  Ruskin,  a  Southern 
politician,  who  is  described  by  a  Pioneer  as  wearing  "  a 
white  fur  plug  hat,  a  blue  coat  with  brass  buttons,  a  buff- 
colored  vest,  white  trousers,  varnished  boots,  a  black 
satin  stock,  and,  on  state  occasions,  a  frilled  shirt  front. 
He  always  carried  a  cane  with  a  curved  handle."^ 
This,  the  Reader  need  not  be  reminded,  is  the  exact 
costume  of  Colonel  Starbottle,  —  the  "  low  Byronic  col- 
lar," which  Bret  Harte  mentions,  being  the  only  item 
omitted. 

From  this  person  Bret  Harte  undoubtedly  derived  an 
idea  as  to  the  appearance  and  carriage  of  Colonel  Star- 
bottle, and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  in  drawing  the  charac- 
1  C.  W.  Haskins,  "  The  Argonauts  of  California." 


136  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ter  he  had  also  in  mind  the  notorious  Judge  David  S. 
Terry.  Terry,  a  native  of  Texas,  was  a  fierce,  fighting 
Southerner,  a  brave  and  honest  man,  but  narrow,  preju- 
diced, abusive,  and  ferocious.  He  was  a  leading  Demo- 
crat, a  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State,  and  a 
bitter  opponent  of  the  San  Francisco  Vigilance  Com- 
mittee. He  nearly  killed  an  agent  of  the  Committee 
who  attempted  to  arrest  one  of  his  companions,  and  was 
himself  in  some  danger  of  being  hung  by  the  Committee 
on  that  account.  Later,  Terry  killed  Senator  Broderick, 
of  whom  mention  has  just  been  made,  in  a  duel  which 
seems  to  have  had  the  essential  qualities  of  a  murder, 
and  which  was  forced  upon  Broderick  in  much  the  same 
way  that  the  fatal  duel  was  forced  upon  Alexander 
Hamilton. 

Later  still,  Terry  became  involved  in  the  affairs  of 
one  of  his  clients,  a  somewhat  notorious  woman,  whom 
he  married,  —  clearly  showing  that  mixture  of  chivalrous 
respect  for  women,  combined  with  a  capacity  for  mis- 
understanding them,  and  of  being  deluded  by  them, 
which  was  so  remarkable  in  Colonel  Starbottle.  In  the 
course  of  litigation  on  behalf  of  his  wife,  Terry  bitterly 
resented  certain  action  taken  by  Mr.  Justice  Field  of 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  —  the  same 
Field  who  began  his  judicial  career  as  Alcalde  of  Marys- 
ville.  Terry's  threats  against  the  Justice,  then  an  old 
man,  were  so  open  and  violent,  and  his  character  was  so 
well  known,  that,  at  the  request  of  the  court  officials 
in  San  Francisco,  a  deputy  marshal  was  assigned  as  a 
guard  to  the  Justice  while  he  should  be  hearing  cases 
on  the  California  circuit.  At  a  railroad  station,  one  day, 
Terry  and  the  Justice  met ;  and  as  Terry  was,  apparently, 
in  the  act  of  drawing  a  weapon,  the  deputy  marshal  shot 
and  killed  him. 

It  was  Judge  Terry  who  remarked  of  the  San  Fran- 
cisco Vigilance  Committee,  which  was  mainly  composed 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS         137 

of  business  men,  —  the  lawyers  holding  aloof,  —  that 
they  were  "a  set  of  damned  pork-merchants," — a  re- 
mark so  characteristic  of  Colonel  Starbottle  that  it  is 
difficult  to  attribute  it  to  anybody  else. 

Colonel  Starbottle  was  as  much  the  product  of  slav- 
ery as  Uncle  Tom  himself,  and  he  exemplified  both  its 
good  and  its  bad  effects.  His  fat  white  hand  and  pudgy 
fingers  indicated  the  man  who  despised  manual  labor 
and  those  who  performed  it.  His  short,  stubby  feet,  and 
tight-fitting,  high-heeled  boots  conveyed  him  sufficiently 
well  from  office  to  bar-room,  but  were  never  intended 
for  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  "  constitutional."  His 
own  immorality  did  not  prevent  him  from  cherishing  a 
high  ideal  of  feminine  purity ;  but  his  conversation  was 
gross.  He  was  a  purveyor,  Bret  Harte  relates,  "of 
sprightly  stories  such  as  Gentlemen  of  the  Old  School 
are  in  the  habit  of  telling,  but  which,  from  deference 
to  the  prejudices  of  gentlemen  of  a  more  recent  school, 
I  refrain  from  transcribing  here." 

He  had  that  keen  sense  of  honor,  and  the  determin- 
ation to  defend  it,  even,  if  need  be,  at  the  expense  of  his 
life,  which  the  Southern  slave-holder  possessed,  and  he 
had  also  the  ferocity  which  belonged  to  the  same  char- 
acter. One  can  hardly  recall  without  a  shudder  of  dis- 
gust the  "small,  beady  black  eyes"  of  Colonel  Star- 
bottle, especially  when  they  "  shone  with  that  fire  which 
a  pretty  woman  or  an  affair  of  honor  could  alone 
kindle." 

The  Reader  will  remember  that  the  Colonel  was  al- 
ways ready  to  hold  himself  "  personally  responsible  "  for 
any  consequences  of  a  hostile  nature,  and  that  by  some 
irreverent  persons  he  was  dubbed  "  Old  Personal  Re- 
sponsibility." The  phrase  was  not  invented  by  Bret  Harte. 
On  the  contrary,  it  was  almost  a  catchword  in  California 
society;  it  was  a  Southern  phrase,  and  indicated  the 
Southerner's  attitude.  In  a  leading  article  published  in 


138  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

the  "San  Francisco  Bulletin"  in  1856,  it  is  said,  "The 
basis  of  many  of  the  outrages  which  have  disgraced  our 
State  during  the  past  four  years  has  been  the  *  personal 
responsibility'  system, — a  reUc  of  barbarism." 

Colonel  Starbottle's  lack  of  humor  was  also  a  Southern 
characteristic.  The  only  humorists  in  the  South  were 
the  slaves ;  and  the  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  The  South- 
erner's political  and  social  creed  was  that  of  an  aristo- 
crat ;  and  an  aristocrat  is  too  dignified  and  too  self-ab- 
sorbed to  enter  curiously  into  other  men's  feelings,  and 
too  self-satisfied  to  question  his  own.  Dandies  are  noto- 
riously grave  men.  The  aristocratic,  non-humorous  man 
always  takes  himself  seriously ;  and  this  trait  in  Colonel 
Starbottle  is  what  makes  him  so  interesting.  "  It  is  my 
invariable  custom  to  take  brandy — a  wineglass-full  in  a 
cup  of  strong  coffee  —  immediately  on  rising.  It  stimu- 
lates the  functions,  sir,  without  producing  any  blank  de- 
rangement of  the  nerves." 

There  is  another  trait,  exemplified  in  Colonel  Star- 
bottle,  which  often  accompanies  want  of  humor,  namely, 
a  tendency  to  be  theatrical.  It  would  seem  as  if  the 
ordinary  course  of  human  events  was  either  too  painful 
or  too  monotonous  to  be  endured.  We  find  ourselves 
obliged  to  throw  upon  it  an  aspect  of  comedy  or  of  trag- 
edy, by  way  of  relief.  The  man  of  humor  sees  the  in- 
congruity,—  in  other  words,  the  jest  in  human  exist- 
ence ;  and  the  non-humorous,  having  no  such  perception, 
represents  it  to  himself  and  to  others  in  an  exaggerated 
or  theatrical  form.  The  one  relies  upon  understatement ; 
the  other  upon  overstatement.  Colonel  Starbottle  was 
always  theatrical ;  his  walk  was  a  strut,  and  "  his  collo- 
quial speech  was  apt  to  be  fragmentary  incoherencies  of 
his  larger  oratorical  utterances." 

But  we  cannot  help  feeling  sorry  for  the  Colonel  as 
his  career  draws  to  a  close,  and  especially  when,  after 
his  discomfiture  in  the  breach  of  promise  case,  he  re- 


PIONEER  LAW  AND  LAWLESSNESS         139 

turns  to  his  lonely  chambers,  and  the  negro  servant  finds 
him  there  silent  and  unoccupied  before  his  desk.  "  *  'Fo* 
God!  Kernel,  I  hope  dey  ain't  nuffin  de  matter,  but 
you 's  lookin'  mighty  solemn !  I  ain't  seen  you  look  dat 
way.  Kernel,  since  de  day  pooh  Massa  Str}'ker  was 
fetched  home  shot  froo  de  head.'  'Hand  me  down  the 
whiskey,  Jim,'  said  the  Colonel,  rising  slowly.  The  negro 
flew  to  the  closet  joyfully,  and  brought  out  the  bottle. 
The  Colonel  poured  out  a  glass  of  the  spirit,  and  drank 
it  with  his  old  deliberation.  *  You  're  quite  right,  Jim,' 
he  said,  putting  down  his  glass,  *but  I'm — er — get- 
ting old — and  —  somehow — I  am  missing  poor  Stryker 
damnably.' " 

This  is  the  last  appearance  of  Colonel  Starbottle.  He 
represents  that  element  of  the  moral  picturesque, — that 
compromise  with  perfection  which,  in  this  imperfect  and 
transitory  world,  is  universally  craved.  Even  Emerson, 
best  and  most  respectable  of  men,  admitted,  in  his  pri- 
vate diary,  that  the  irregular  characters  who  frequented 
the  rum-selling  tavern  in  his  own  village  were  indispens- 
able elements,  forming  what  he  called  "the  fringe  to 
every  one's  tapestry  of  life.  ^ "  Such  men  as  he  had  in 
mind  mitigate  the  solemnity  and  tragedy  of  human  ex- 
istence ;  and  in  them  the  virtuous  are  able  to  relax,  vica- 
riously, the  moral  tension  under  which  they  suffer.  This 
is  the  part  which  Colonel  Starbottle  plays  in  literature. 

1  "  Emerson  in  Concord,"  page  94. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  AMONG  THE  PIONEERS 

The  chief  source  of  demoralization  among  the  Pioneers 
was  the  absence  of  women  and  children,  and  therefore 
of  any  real  home.  "  Ours  is  a  bachelor  community," 
remarked  the  "Alta  California,"  "but  nevertheless  pos- 
sessing strong  domestic  propensities."  Most  significant 
and  pathetic,  indeed,  is  the  strain  of  hon^esickness  which 
underlies  the  wild  symphony  of  Pioneer  life.  "I  well 
remember,"  writes  a  Forty-Niner,  "  the  loneliness  and 
dreariness  amid  all  the  excitement  of  the  time."  The 
unsuccessful  miner  often  lost  his  strength  by  hard  work, 
exposure,  and  bad  food;  and  then  fell  a  prey  to  that  dis- 
ease which  has  slain  so  many  a  wanderer— homesick- 
ness. At  the  San  Francisco  hospital  it  was  a  rule  not  to 
give  letters  from  the  East  to  patients,  unless  they  were 
safely  convalescent.  More  than  once  the  nurses  had  seen 
a  sick  man,  after  reading  a  letter  from  home,  turn  on  his 
side  and  die. 

In  the  big  gambling  saloons  of  San  Francisco,  when 
the  band  played  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  hundreds  of 
homeless  wanderers  stood  still,  and  listened  as  if  en- 
tranced. The  newspapers  of  '49  and  '50  are  full  of 
lamentations,  in  prose  and  in  verse,  over  the  absence  of 
women  and  children.  In  185 1  the  "Alta  California"  ex- 
claimed, "Who  will  devise  a  plan  to  bring  out  a  few 
cargoes  of  respectable  women  to  California.?" 

On  those  rare  occasions  when  children  appeared  in 
the  streets,  they  were  followed  by  admiring  crowds  of 
bearded  men,  eager  to  kiss  them,  to  shake  their  hands, 
to  hear  their  voices,  and  humbly  begging  permission  to 


WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  141 

make  them  presents  of  gold  nuggets  and  miners'  curi- 
osities. In  the  autumn  of  1849  ^  beautiful  flaxen-haired 
little  girl,  about  three  years  old,  was  frequently  seen 
playing  upon  the  veranda  of  a  house  near  the  business 
centre  of  San  Francisco,  and  at  such  times  there  was  al- 
ways on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  a  group  of  miners 
gazing  reverently  at  the  child,  and  often  with  tears  run- 
ning down  their  bronzed  cheeks.  The  cry  of  a  baby  at 
the  theatre  brought  down  a  tumultuous  encore  from  the 
whole  house.  The  chief  attraction  of  every  theatrical 
troupe  was  a  child,  usually  called  the  "  California  Pet," 
whose  appearance  on  the  stage  was  always  greeted  with 
a  shower  of  coins.  Next  to  the  Pet,  the  most  popular 
part  of  the  entertainment  was  the  singing  of  ballads  and 
songs  relating  to  domestic  subjects. 

In  '49  a  woman  in  the  streets  of  San  Francisco  cre- 
ated more  excitement  than  would  have  been  caused  by 
the  appearance  of  an  elephant  or  a  giraffe.  Once  at  a 
crowded  sale  in  an  auction  room  some  one  cried  out, 
"Two  ladies  going  along  the  sidewalk!"  and  forthwith 
everybody  rushed  pell-mell  into  the  street,  as  if  there 
had  been  a  fire  or  an  earthquake.  A  young  miner,  in  a 
remote  mountain  camp,  borrowed  a  mule  and  rode  forty 
miles  in  order  to  make  a  call  upon  a  married  woman  who 
had  recently  arrived.  He  had  a  few  minutes'  conversation 
with  her,  and  returned  the  next  day  well  satisfied  with 
his  trip.  At  another  diggings,  when  the  first  woman 
resident  appeared,  she  and  the  mule  upon  which  she 
rode,  were  raised  from  the  ground  by  a  group  of  strong- 
armed,  enthusiastic  miners,  and  carried  triumphantly  to 
the  house  which  her  husband  had  prepared  for  her. 

When  the  town  where  Stephen  J.  Field  purchased  his 
corner  lots  was  organized,  the  first  necessity  was  of 
course  a  name.  Various  titles,  suggested  by  the  situa- 
tion, or  by  the  imagination  of  hopeful  miners,  were  pro- 
posed, such  as  Yubaville  and  Circumdoro;  but  finally 


142  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

a  substantial,  middle-aged  man  arose  and  remarked  that 
there  was  an  American  lady  in  the  place,  the  wife  of  one 
of  the  proprietors,  that  her  name  was  Mary,  and  that  in 
his  opinion,  the  town  should  be  called  Marysville,  as  a 
compliment  to  her.  No  sooner  had  he  made  this  sugges- 
tion than  the  meeting  broke  out  in  loud  huzzahs ;  every 
hat  made  a  circle  around  its  owner's  head,  and  the  new 
town  was  christened  Marysville  without  a  dissenting 
voice.  The  lady,  Mrs.  Coullard,  was  one  of  the  survivors 
of  the  Donner  party,  and  the  honor  was  therefore  espe- 
cially fitting. 

Doubts  have  been  cast  upon  the  story  of  the  bar  sur- 
mounted by  a  woman's  sunbonnet,  to  which  every  cus- 
tomer respectfully  lifted  his  glass  before  tossing  off  its 
contents ;  but  the  fact  is  substantiated  by  the  eminent 
engraver,  Mr.  A.  V.  S.  Anthony,  who,  as  a  young  man, 
drank  a  glass  of  whiskey  at  that  very  bar,  in  the  early 
Fifties,  and  joined  in  the  homage  to  the  sunbonnet.  There 
is  really  nothing  unnatural  in  this  incident,  or  in  that  other 
story  of  some  youthful  miners  coming  by  chance  upon 
a  woman's  cast-off  skirt  or  hat,  spontaneously  forming  a 
ring  and  dancing  around  it.  In  both  cases,  the  motive,  no 
doubt,  was  partly  humorous,  partly  amorous,  and  partly 
a  vague  but  intense  longing  for  the  gentle  and  refining 
influence  of  women's  society. 

This  feeling  of  the  miners,  roughly  expressed  in  the 
incidents  of  the  sunbonnet  and  skirt,  was  poetically 
treated  by  Bret  Harte  in  the  story  called  The  Goddess 
of  Excelsior,  —  another  example  of  that  "  perverse  roman- 
ticism "  which  has  been  discovered  in  his  California  tales. 

Said  the  "  Sacramento  Transcript,"  in  April,  1850,  "May 
we  not  hope  soon  to  see  around  us  thousands  of  happy 
homes  whose  genial  influences  will  awaken  the  noble 
qualities  that  many  a  wanderer  has  allowed  to  slumber 
in  his  heart  while  absent  from  the  objects  of  his  affec- 
tion!" 


WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  143 

In  the  same  strain,  but  in  the  more  florid  style  which 
was  common  in  the  California  newspapers,  another  writer 
thus  anticipated  the  coming  of  women  and  children: 
"  No  longer  will  the  desolate  heart  seek  to  drown  its 
loneliness  in  the  accursed  bowl.  But  the  bright  smiles 
of  love  will  shed  sunshine  where  were  dark  clouds  and 
fierce  tornadoes,  and  the  lofty  spire,  pointing  heaven- 
ward, will  remind  us  in  our  pilgrimage  here  of  the  high 
destiny  we  were  created  to  fulfil."  This  has  the  ring  of 
sincerity,  and  yet,  as  we  read  it,  we  cannot  help  think- 
ing that  when  the  writer  laid  down  his  pen,  he  went  out 
and  took  one  more  drink  from  the  "accursed  bowl";  and 
who  could  blame  him  ! 

A  loaf  of  home-made  cake  sent  all  the  way  around 
Cape  Horn  from  Brooklyn  to  San  Jos6  was  reverently 
eaten,  a  portion  being  given  to  the  local  editor  who  duly 
returned  thanks  for  the  same. 

The  arrival  of  the  fortnightly  mail  steamer  was  always 
the  most  important  event  of  those  early  years  ;  and  Bret 
Harte  thus  described  it :  **  Perhaps  it  is  the  gilded  drink- 
ing saloon  into  which  some  one  rushes  with  arms  ex- 
tended at  right  angles,  and  conveys  in  that  one  panto- 
mimic action  the  signal  of  the  semaphore  telegraph  on 
Telegraph  Hill  that  a  side-wheel  steamer  has  arrived,  and 
that  there  are  letters  from  home.  Perhaps  it  is  the  long 
queue  that  afterward  winds  and  stretches  from  the  Post 
Office  half  a  mile  away.  Perhaps  it  is  the  eager  men  who, 
following  it  rapidly  down,  bid  fifty,  a  hundred,  two  hun- 
dred, three  hundred,  and  even  five  hundred  dollars  for 
favored  places  in  the  line.  Perhaps  it  is  the  haggard  man 
who  nervously  tears  open  his  letter,  and  falls  senseless 
beside  his  comrade."^ 

Thus  far  Bret  Harte.  In  precisely  the  same  vein,  and 
with  a  literary  finish  almost  equal,  is  the  following  para- 
graph from  a  contemporary  newspaper  :  "  This  other  face 

1  Introduction  to  volume  ii  of  Bret  Harte's  works. 


144  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

is  well  known.  It  is  that  of  one  who  has  always  been  at 
his  post  on  the  arrival  of  each  steamer  for  the  past  six 
months,  certain  at  each  time  that  he  will  get  a  letter. 
His  eye  brightens  for  a  moment  as  the  clerk  pauses  in 
running  over  the  yellow-covered  documents,  but  the 
clerk  goes  on  again  hastily,  and  then  shakes  his  head, 
and  says  *  No  letter.*  The  brightened  eye  looks  sad  again, 
the  face  pales,  and  the  poor  fellow  goes  off  with  a  feeling 
in  his  heart  that  he  is  forgotten  by  those  who  knew  and 
loved  him  at  home."  ^ 

Anxious  men  sometimes  camped  out  on  the  steps  of 
the  Post  Office,  the  night  before  a  mail  steamer  was  due, 
in  order  that  they  might  receive  the  longed-for  letter  at 
the  earliest  possible  moment. 

The  coming  of  three  women  on  a  steamer  from  New 
York  in  1850  was  mentioned  by  all  the  newspapers  as  a 
notable  event.  In  May  of  that  year  the  "  Sacramento 
Transcript"  contained  an  advertisement,  novel  for  Cali- 
fornia, being  that  of  a  "Few  fashionably-trimmed,  Flor- 
ence braid  velvet  and  silk  bonnets."  A  month  later  a 
Sydney  ship  arrived  at  San  Francisco,  having  on  board 
two  hundred  and  sixty  passengers,  of  whom  seventy  were 
women.  As  soon  as  this  vessel  had  anchored,  there  was 
a  rush  of  bachelors  to  the  Bay,  and  boat-loads  of  them 
climbed  the  ship's  side,  trying  to  engage  housekeepers. 

In  185 1  women  began  to  arriv^e  in  somewhat  larger 
numbers,  and  the  coming  of  wives  from  the  East  gave 
rise  to  many  amusing,  many  pathetic  and  some  tragic 
scenes.  "You  could  always  tell  a  month  beforehand," 
said  a  Pioneer,  "  when  a  man  was  expecting  the  arrival 
of  his  real  or  intended  wife.  The  old  slouch  hat,  checked 
shirt  and  coarse  outer  garments  disappeared,  and  the 
gentleman  could  be  seen  on  Sunday  going  to  church, 
newly  rigged  from  head  to  foot,  with  fine  beaver  hat, 
white  linen,  nice  and  clean,  good  broadcloth  coat,  velvet 

I  "  Alta  California  "  of  July  21,  1851, 


WOMEN  AND   CHILDREN  145 

vest,  patent-leather  boots,  his  long  beard  shaven  or 
neatly  shorn,  —  he  looked  like  a  new  man.  As  the  time 
drew  near  many  of  his  hours  were  spent  about  the 
wharves  or  on  Telegraph  Hill,  and  every  five  minutes  he 
was  looking  for  the  signal  to  announce  the  coming  of  the 
steamer.  If,  owing  to  some  breakdown  or  wreck,  there 
was  a  delay  of  a  week  or  two,  the  suspense  was  awful 
beyond  description."  ^ 

The  great  beards  grown  in  California  were  sometimes 
a  source  of  embarrassment.  When  a  steamer  arrived 
fathers  might  be  seen  caressing  little  ones  whom  they 
now  saw  for  the  first  time,  while  the  children,  in  their 
turn,  were  frightened  at  finding  themselves  in  the  arms 
of  such  fierce-looking  men.  Wives  almost  shared  the 
consternation  of  the  children.  *'  Why  don't  you  kiss  me, 
Bessie.?"  said  a  Pioneer  to  his  newly  arrived  wife.  She 
stood  gazing  at  the  hirsute  imitation  of  her  husband  in 
utter  astonishment.  At  last  she  timidly  ejaculated,  "I 
can't  find  any  place." 

In  March,  1852,  forty  four  women  and  thirty-six  chil- 
dren arrived  on  one  steamer.  The  proportion  of  women 
Pioneers  in  that  year  was  one  to  ten.  By  1853,  women 
were  one  in  five  of  the  population,  and  children  one  in 
ten.  Even  so  late  as  i860,  however,  marriageable  wo- 
men were  very  scarce.  In  November  of  that  year  the 
"  Calaveras  Chronicle  "  declared  :  "  No  sooner  does  a  girl 
emerge  from  her  pantalettes  than  she  is  taken  posses- 
sion of  by  one  of  our  bachelors,  and  assigned  a  seat  at 
the  head  of  his  table.  We  hear  that  girls  are  plenty  in 
the  cities  below,  but  such  is  not  the  case  here." 

The  same  paper  gives  an  account  of  the  first  meeting 
between  a  heroine  of  the  Plains,  and  a  Calaveras  bach- 
elor. "One  day  this  week  a  party  of  immigrants  came 
down  the  ridge,  and  the  advance-wagon  was  driven  by 
a  young  and  pretty  woman  —  one  of  General  Allen's 
1  The  Reverend  William  Taylor,  "  California  Life." 


146  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

maidens.  When  near  town  the  train  was  met  by  a 
butcher's  cart,  and  the  cart  was  driven  by  a  young 
*bach.'  He,  staring  at  the  lovely  features  of  the  lady, 
neglected  to  rein  his  horse  to  one  side  of  the  road,  and 
the  two  wagons  were  about  to  come  in  collision,  when  a 
man  in  the  train,  noticing  the  danger,  cried  out  to  the 
female  driver,  *  Gee,  Kate,  Gee ! '  Said  Kate,  *  Ain't  I 
a-tryin',  but  the  dog-gone  horses  won't  gee ! '  " 

Mrs.  Bates  speaks  of  two  emigrant  wagons  passing 
through  Marysville  one  day  in  1850,  "each  with  three 
yoke  of  oxen  driven  by  a  beautiful  girl.  In  their  hands 
they  carried  one  of  those  tremendous,  long  ox-whips 
which,  by  great  exertion,  they  flourished  to  the  admir- 
ation of  all  beholders.  Within  two  weeks  each  one  was 
married." 

But  it  was  seldom  that  a  woman  who  had  crossed  the 
Plains  presented  a  comely  appearance  upon  her  arrival. 
The  sunken  eyes  and  worn  features  of  the  newcomers, 
both  men  and  women,  gave  some  hint  of  what  they  had 
endured.^ 

A  letter  from  Placerville,  written  in  September,  1850, 
describes  a  female  Pioneer  who  had  not  quite  reached 
the  goal.  "  On  Tuesday  last  an  old  lady  was  seen  leading 
a  thin,  jaded  horse  laden  with  her  scanty  stores.  The 
heat  of  the  sun  was  almost  unbearable,  and  the  sand 
ankle  deep,  yet  she  said  that  she  had  travelled  in  the 
same  way  for  the  last  two  hundred  miles." 

And  then  comes  a  figure  which  recalls  that  of 
Liberty  Jones  on  her  arrival  in  California:  "By  the  side 
of  one  wagon  there  walked  a  little  girl  about  thirteen 
years  old,  and  from  her  appearance  she  must  have  walked 
many  hundreds  of  miles.  She  was  bare-footed  and  hag- 
gard, and  she  strode  on  with  steps  longer  than  her  years 
would  warrant,  as  though  in  the  tiresome  journey  she 

1  In  one  day  two  women,  crazed  by  the  sufferings  of  their  children, 
drowned  themselves  in  the  Humboldt  River. 


WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  147 

had  thrown  off  all  grace,  and  had  accustomed  herself  to  a 
gait  which  would  on  the  long  marches  enable  her  with 
most  ease  to  keep  up  with  the  wagon." 

The  long  journey  across  the  Plains  without  the  com- 
forts and  conveniences,  and  sometimes  without  even  the 
decencies  of  life,  the  contact  with  rough  men,  the  shock 
of  hardships  and  fatigues  under  which  human  nature  is 
apt  to  lose  respect  for  itself  and  consideration  for  others, 
—  these  things  inevitably  had  a  coarsening  effect  upon 
the  Pioneer  women.  Only  those  who  possessed  excep- 
tional strength  and  sweetness  of  character  could  pass 
through  them  unscathed.  As  one  traveller  graphically 
puts  it :  "A  woman  in  whose  virtue  you  might  have  the 
same  confidence  as  in  the  existence  of  the  stars  above 
would  suddenly  horrify  you  by  letting  a  huge  oath  es- 
cape from  her  lips,  or  by  speaking  to  her  children  as  an 
ungentle  hostler  would  to  his  cattle,  and  perhaps  listen- 
ing undisturbed  to  the  same  style  of  address  in  reply."  ^ 
The  callousness  which  Liberty  Jones  showed  at  the 
death  of  her  father  was  not  in  the  least  exaggerated  by 
Bret  Harte. 

And  yet  these  defects  shrink  almost  to  nothing  when 
we  contrast  them  with  the  deeds  of  love  and  affection 
silently  performed  by  women  upon  those  terrible  jour- 
neys, and  often  spoken  of  with  emotion  by  the  Pioneers 
who  witnessed  them.  A  few  of  those  deeds  are  chron- 
icled in  this  book,  many  more  may  be  found  in  the  narra- 
tives and  newspapers  of  the  day,  but  by  far  the  greater 
number  were  long  since  buried  in  oblivion.  They  are 
preserved,  if  preserved  at  all,  only  in  the  characters 
of  those  descended  from  the  women  who  performed 
them. 

Upon  one  thing  the  Pioneer  women  could  rely,  — the 
universal  respect  shown  them  by  the  men.  In  the  rough- 
est mining  camp  in  California  an  unprotected  girl  would 

1  E.  W.  Farnham,  "  California  Indoors  and  Out." 


148  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

not  only  have  been  safe,  she  would  have  been  treated 
with  the  utmost  consideration  and  courtesy.  Such  was 
the  society  of  which  the  English  critic  declared  that  "its 
laxity  surpassed  the  laxity  of  savages!"^ 

In  this  respect,  if  in  no  other,  the  Pioneers  insisted 
that  foreigners  should  comply  with  their  notions.  No- 
thing, indeed,  gave  more  surprise  to  the  "  Greasers"  and 
Chilenos  than  the  fact  that  they  were  haled  into  court 
and  punished  for  beating  their  wives. 

As  to  the  Mexican  and  Chilean  women  themselves,  it 
must  be  admitted  that  they  contributed  more  to  the 
gaiety  than  to  the  morality  or  peacefulness  of  California 
life.  "  Rowdyism  and  crime,"  remarked  the  "  Alta  Cali- 
fornia" in  October,  185 1,  "increase  in  proportion  to  the 
increase  in  the  number  of  Senoritas.  This  is  true  in  the 
mines  as  well  as  in  the  city." 

At  a  horse-race  that  came  off  that  year  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, we  hear  of  the  Senoritas  as  freely  backing  their 
favorite  nags  with  United  States  money,  though  how 
it  came  into  their  possession,  as  a  contemporary  satirist 
remarked,  "is  matter  of  surmise  only."  This  species 
of  woman  is  portrayed  by  Bret  Harte  in  the  passion- 
ate Teresa,  who  met  her  fate,  in  a  double  sense,  in 
T/ie  Carqiiinez  Woods,  finding  there  both  a  lover  and 
her  death.  The  Spanish  woman  of  good  family  is  repre- 
sented by  Dona  Rosita  in  T/ie  Argonauts  of  North 
Liberty,  by   Enriquez  Saltello's  charming  sister,  Con- 

1  Before  the  Civil  War,  the  treatment  of  women,  even  in  the  Eastern 
cities,  was  almost  invariably  courteous  and  respectful.  It  was  the  ex- 
ception, in  New  York  or  Boston,  when  a  man  neglected  to  give  up  his 
seat  in  a  public  conveyance  to  a  woman  ;  whereas,  nowadays  the  excep- 
tion is  the  other  way.  Profound  respect  shown  to  woman  as  woman  is 
incompatible  with  a  society  founded  upon  an  aristocratic,  plutocratic,  or 
caste  system.  It  was  never  known  in  England.  It  is  the  product  of  a  real 
democracy  and  of  that  alone ;  and  in  this  country,  as  we  become  more 
and  more  plutocratic,  the  respect  for  women  diminishes.  The  great  cities 
of  the  United  States  are  fast  approaching,  in  this  regard,  the  brutality 
of  London,  Paris  and  Berlin. 


WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  149 

suelo,  and  by  Concepcion,^  the  beautiful  daughter  of 
the  Commandante,  who,  after  the  death  of  her  lover, 
the  Russian  Envoy,  took  the  veil,  and  died  a  nun  at 
Benicia. 

Even  before  the  discovery  of  gold  a  few  Americans 
had  married  into  leading  Spanish  families  of  Los  An- 
geles, Santa  Barbara,  Monterey  and  Sonoma.  The  first 
house  erected  on  the  spot  which  afterward  became  San 
Francisco  was  built  in  1836  by  Jacob  P.  Leese,  an  Amer- 
ican who  had  married  a  sister  of  General  Vallejo.  It  was 
finished  July  3,  and  on  the  following  day  was  "  dedicated 
to  the  cause  of  freedom." 

There  is  something  of  great  interest  in  the  union  of 
races  so  diverse,  and  Bret  Harte  has  touched  upon  this 
aspect  of  California  life  in  the  character  of  that  unique 
heroine,  Maruja.  "'Hush,  she's  looking.'  She  had  in- 
deed lifted  her  eyes  toward  the  window.  They  were 
beautiful  eyes,  and  charged  with  something  more  than 
their  own  beauty.  With  a  deep,  brunette  setting,  even 
to  the  darkened  cornea,  the  pupils  were  blue  as  the 
sky  above  them.  But  they  were  lit  with  another  intelli- 
gence. The  soul  of  the  Salem  whaler  looked  out  of  the 
passion-darkened  orbits  of  the  mother,  and  was  resist- 
less." 

Chapter  and  verse  can  always  be  given  to  confirm 
Bret  Harte' s  account  of  California  life,  and  even  Maruja 
can  be  authenticated.  A  Lieutenant  in  the  United  States 
Navy,  who  visited  the  Coast  in  1846,  gave  this  descrip- 
tion of  the  reigning  belle  of  California :  "  Her  father 
was  an  Englishman,  her  mother  a  Spanish  lady.  She 
was  brunette,  with  an  oval  face,  magnificent  grey  eyes, 
the  corners  of  her  mouth  slightly  curved  downward,  so 
as  to  give  a  proud  and  haughty  expression  to  the  face. 
She  was  tall,  graceful,  well-shaped,  with  small  feet  and 
hands,  a  dead  shot,  an  accomplished  rider,  and  amiable 

^  In  the  poem,  Concepcion  de  Arguello. 


I50  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

withal.  I  never  saw  a  more  patrician  style  of  beauty  and 
native  elegance."  ^ 

California  was  always  the  land  of  romance,  and  Bret 
Harte  in  his  poems  and  stories  touched  upon  its  whole 
history  from  the  beginning.  Even  the  visit  of  Sir  Fran- 
cis Drake  in  1578  was  not  overlooked.  In  The  Mermaid 
of  Light-House  Pointy  Bret  Harte  quotes  a  footnote,  per- 
haps imaginary,  from  an  account  of  Drake's  travels,  as 
follows:  "The  admiral  seems  to  have  lost  several  of 
his  crew  b}'"  desertion,  who  were  supposed  to  have  per- 
ished miserably  by  starvation  in  the  inhospitable  interior 
or  by  the  hands  of  savages.  But  later  voyagers  have 
suggested  that  the  deserters  married  Indian  wives,  and 
there  is  a  legend  that  a  hundred  years  later  a  singular 
race  of  half-breeds,  bearing  unmistakable  Anglo-Saxon 
characteristics,  was  found  in  that  locality." 

This  was  the  origin  of  the  blue-eyed  and  light-haired 
mermaid  of  the  story ;  and  it  is  only  fair  to  add  that  the 
tradition  of  which  the  author  speaks  was  current  among 
the  Nicasio  Indians  who  inhabited  the  valley  of  that 
name,  about  fifteen  miles  eastward  of  Drake's  Bay. 

Among  the  women  who  first  arrived  from  the  East 
by  sea,  there  were  many  of  easy  virtue ;  but  even  these 
women  —  and  here  is  disclosed  a  wonderful  compliment 
to  the  sex — were  held  by  observing  Pioneers  to  have  an 
elevating  influence  upon  the  men.  "  The  bad  women," 
says  one  careful  historian,  "  have  improved  the  morals  of 
the  community.  They  have  banished  much  barbarism, 
softened  many  hard  hearts,  and  given  a  gentleness  to 
the  men  which  they  did  not  have  before."  ^ 

If  this  was  the  effect  of  the  bad,  what  must  have  been 
the  influence  of  the  good  women !  Let  the  same  writer 
tell  us  :  ''  Soon  after  their  arrival,  schools  and  churches 
began  to  spring  up ;  social  circles  were  formed ;  refine- 

1  H.  A.  Wise,  "  Los  Gringos." 

2  H.  R.  Helper,  "  The  Land  of  Gold." 


WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  151 

ment  dawned  upon  a  debauched  and  reckless  commun- 
ity; decorum  took  the  place  of  obscenity;  kind  and 
gentle  words  were  heard  to  fall  from  the  lips  of  those 
who  before  had  been  accustomed  to  taint  every  phrase 
with  an  oath ;  and  smiles  displayed  themselves  upon 
countenances  to  which  they  had  long  been  strangers." 

And  then  the  author  pays  a  tribute  to  woman  which 
could  hardly  be  surpassed :  "  Had  I  received  no  other 
benefit  from  my  trip  to  California  than  the  knowledge  I 
have  gained,  inadequate  as  it  may  be,  of  woman's  many 
virtues  and  perfections,  I  should  account  myself  well 
repaid."  In  a  ship-load  of  Pioneers  which  sailed  from 
New  York  around  Cape  Horn  to  San  Francisco  in  1850 
there  was  just  one  woman ;  and  yet  her  influence  upon 
the  men  was  so  marked  and  so  salutary  that  it  was  often 
spoken  of  by  the  Captain. 

The  effect  of  their  peculiar  situation  upon  the  married 
women  was  not  good.  They  were  apt  to  be  demoralized 
by  the  attentions  of  their  men  friends,  and  they  were  too 
few  in  number  to  inflict  upon  improper  females  that  rigid 
ostracism  from  society,  which,  some  cynics  think,  is  the 
strongest  safeguard  of  feminine  virtue.  Women  in  Cali- 
fornia were  released  from  their  accustomed  restraints, 
they  were  much  noticed  and  flattered ;  and,  then,  as  a 
San  Francisco  belle  exclaimed,  "  The  gentlemen  are  so 
rich  and  so  handsome,  and  have  such  superb  whiskers  !  " 

In  a  single  issue  of  the  "Sacramento  Transcript,"  in 
July,  1850,  are  the  following  two  items:  "A  certain 
madam  now  in  this  town  buried  her  husband,  and  seventy- 
four  hours  afterward  she  married  another."  "One  of  our 
fair  and  lovely  damsels  had  a  quarrel  with  her  husband. 
He  took  the  stage  for  Stockton,  and  the  same  day  she 
married  another  man." 

Even  those  Pioneers  who  were  fortunate  enough  to 
have  their  wives  with  them  did  not  always  appreciate 
the  blessing.    Being  absorbed  in  business  they  often  felt 


152  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

hampered  by  obligations  from  which  their  bachelor  rivals 
were  free,  or  perhaps,  they  chafed  at  the  wholesome 
restraint  imposed  upon  a  married  man  in  a  community 
of  unmarried  persons.  There  was  a  dangerous  tendency 
among  California  husbands  to  permit  their  friends  to 
look  after  their  wives.  On  this  subject  Professor  Royce 
very  acutely  remarks  :  "  The  family  grows  best  in  a  gar- 
den with  its  kind.  When  family  life  does  not  involve 
healthy  friendship  with  other  families,  it  is  likely  to  be 
injured  by  unhealthy  if  well-meaning  friendships  with 
wanderers."  This  is  a  sentiment  which  Brown  of  Cala- 
veras would  have  echoed. 

Men  with  attractive  wives  were  apt  to  be  uncomfort- 
ably situated  in  California.  It  is  matter  of  history  how 
The  Bell-Ringer  of  Angel's  protected  his  young  and 
pretty  spouse  from  dangerous  communications  :  "When 
I  married  my  wife  and  brought  her  down  here,  knowin' 
this  yer  camp,  I  sez :  *No  fiirtin',  no  foolin',  no  philan- 
derin'  here,  my  dear !  You  're  young  and  don't  know 
the  ways  o'  men.  The  first  man  I  see  you  talking  with,  I 
shoot' " 

In  185 1,  there  was  a  man  named  Crockett  whose  pre- 
dicament was  something  like  that  of  the  Bell-Ringer, 
and  still  more  like  that  of  Brown  of  Calaveras,  for  he 
not  only  had  a  very  handsome  wife,  but  it  was  his  addi- 
tional misfortune  to  keep  a  tavern  on  the  road  between 
Sacramento  and  Salmon  Falls.  It  was  not  unusual  for  a 
dozen  or  more  bearded  miners  to  be  gazing  at  Mrs. 
Crockett  or  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  speak  with 
her.  This  kept  Crockett  in  a  continual  state  of  jealous 
irritation.  He  was  a  very  small  man,  and  he  carried 
ostentatiously  a  very  large  pistol,  which  he  would  often 
draw  and  exhibit.  A  guest  who  stopped  at  the  tavern 
for  breakfast  at  a  time  when  miners  along  the  road  had 
been  more  numerous  than  usual,  found  Crockett  ''charg- 
ing around  like  a  madman,  and  foaming  at  the  mouth." 


WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  153 

However,  he  received  the  guest  with  hospitality,  in- 
formed him  that  "  he  (Crockett)  was  a  devilish  good  fel- 
low when  he  was  right  side  up,"  and  finally  set  before 
him  an  excellent  meal.  Mrs.  Crockett  presided  at  the 
table,  "but  in  a  very  nervous  manner,  as  if  she  were  in 
expectation  of  being  at  almost  any  minute  made  a  tar- 
get of." 

If  life  in  California  during  the  earlier  years  was  bad 
for  women,  it  was  still  worse  for  children.  In  San  Fran- 
cisco there  was  no  public  school  until  the  autumn  of 
185 1.  Before  that  time  there  had  been  several  small 
private  schools,  and  one  free  school  supported  by  char- 
ity, but  in  185 1  this  was  given  up  for  want  of  funds.  In 
the  cities  and  towns  outside  of  San  Francisco  there  was 
even  greater  delay  in  establishing  public  schools.  In 
1852  there  were  many  children  at  Marysville  who  were 
receiving  no  instruction,  and  others,  fourteen  years  old 
and  even  older,  were  only  just  learning  to  read.  Horace 
Greeley  visited  California  in  the  year  1859,  ^^d  he  wrote, 
"There  ought  to  be  two  thousand  good  common  schools 
in  operation  this  winter,  but  I  fear  there  will  not  be  six 
hundred."  ^ 

Partly  in  consequence  of  this  lack  of  schools,  partly  on 
account  of  the  general  demoralization  and  ultra  freedom 
of  California  society,  boys  grew  up  in  the  streets,  and 
were  remarkable  for  their  precocious  depravity.  Even 
the  climate  contributed  to  this  result,  for,  except  in  the 
rainy  season,  the  shelter  of  a  house  could  easily  be  dis- 
pensed with  by  night  as  well  as  by  day.  "  It  was  the 
voice  of  a  small  boy,  its  weak  treble  broken  by  that  pre- 
ternatural hoarseness  which  only  vagabondage  and  the 
habit  of  premature  self-assertion  can  give.  It  was  the 
face  of  a  small  boy,  a  face  that  might  have  been  pretty 
and  even  refined  but  that  it  was  darkened  by  evil  know- 

1  Horace  Greeley,  "An  Overland  Journey  from  New  York  to  San 

Francisco." 


154  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ledge  from  within,  and  by  dirt  and  hard  experience  from 
without."! 

It  was  no  uncommon  thing,  in  San  Francisco  espe- 
cially, to  see  small  boys  drinking  and  gambling  in  public 
places. 

A  Pioneer  describes  "  boys  from  six  upward  swagger- 
ing through  the  streets,  begirt  with  scarlet  sashes,  cigar 
in  mouth,  uttering  huge  oaths,  and  occasionally  treating 
men  and  boys  at  the  bar."  Miners  not  more  than  ten 
years  old  were  washing  for  gold  on  their  own  account, 
and  obtaining  five  or  ten  dollars  a  week,  which  they  spent 
chiefly  on  drinks  and  cigars.  Bret  Harte's  Youngest 
Prospector  in  Calaveras  was  not  an  uncommon  child. 

An  instance  of  precocity  was  the  attempted  abduction 
in  May,  185 1,  of  a  girl  of  thirteen  by  two  boys  a  little 
older.  They  were  all  the  children  of  Sydney  parents, 
and  the  girl  declared  that  she  loved  those  boys,  and  had 
begged  them  to  take  her  away,  and  she  thought  it  very 
hard  to  be  compelled  to  return  to  her  home.  This  in- 
cident may  recall  to  the  Reader  the  precocious  love  af- 
fairs of  Richelieu  Sharpe,  whose  father  thus  explained 
his  absence  from  supper  :  "  *  Like  ez  not,  he 's  gone  over 
to  see  that  fammerly  at  the  summit.  There  's  a  little  girl 
there  that  he 's  sparkin',  about  his  own  age.' 

"  *  His  own  age  ! '  said  Minty  indignantly,  'why,  she 's 
double  that,  if  she 's  a  day.  Well  —  if  he  ain't  the  tri- 
fiinest,  conceitedest  little  limb  that  ever  grew  !"* 

The  son  of  a  tavern-keeper  at  Sacramento,  a  boy  only 
eight  years  old,  was  described  as  a  finished  gambler. 
Upon  an  occasion  when  he  was  acting  as  dealer,  all  the 
other  players  being  men,  one  of  them  accused  him  of 
cheating.  The  consequence  was  a  general  fight :  two 
men  were  shot,  one  fatally,  and  the  man  who  killed  him 
was  hung  the  next  day  by  a  vigilance  committee.  Even 
Bret  Harte's  "  perverse  romanticism  "  never  carried  him 

1  How  Santa  Claus  came  to  Simpson's  Bar. 


WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN  155 

quite  so  far  in  delineation  of  the  California  child.  The 
word  "  hoodlum,"  meaning  a  youthful,  semi-criminal 
rough,  originated  in  San  Francisco. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  this  picture  of  childhood 
on  the  Pacific  Slope,  and  we  obtain  a  glimpse  of  it  occa- 
sionally. There  was  a  Sunday-school  procession  at  Sacra- 
mento in  July,  1850,  upon  which  the  **  Sacramento  Tran- 
script "  remarked,  **  We  have  seen  no  sight  here  which 
called  home  so  forcibly  to  our  minds  with  all  its  endear- 
ments." Three  years  later  in  San  Francisco,  there  was 
a  May-Day  procession  of  a  thousand  children,  each  one 
carrying  a  flower. 

Even  Bret  Harte's  story  of  the  adoption  of  a  child  by 
the  city  of  San  Francisco  ^  had  a  solid  foundation  in  fact, 
though  perhaps  he  was  not  aware  of  it.  In  July,  185 1,  the 
City  Fathers  charged  themselves  with  the  support  and 
protection  of  an  orphan  girl,  and  on  the  thirteenth  of  that 
month  a  measure  providing  for  her  maintenance  was  in- 
troduced in  the  Board  of  Aldermen. 

The  scarcity,  or  rather,  as  we  have  seen,  the  almost 
total  absence  at  first  of  women  and  children,  of  wives  and 
sweethearts,  led  to  the  adoption  by  the  Pioneers  of  a  great 
number  and  variety  of  pet  animals.  Dogs  and  cats  from 
all  quarters,  parrots  from  over-seas,  canaries  brought  from 
the  East,  bears  from  the  Sierras,  wolves  from  the  Plains, 
foxes  and  raccoons  from  the  Foot-Hills,  —  all  these  were 
found  in  miners*  cabins,  in  gambling  saloons  and  in  res- 
taurants. They  occupied  the  waste  places  in  the  hearts 
of  the  Argonauts,  and  furnished  an  object,  if  an  inade- 
quate one,  for  those  affections  which  might  otherwise 
have  withered  at  the  root.  One  miner  was  accompanied 
in  all  his  wanderings  by  a  family  consisting  of  a  bay  horse, 
two  dogs,  two  sheep  and  two  goats. 

These  California  pets  had  their  little  day,  perished,  and 
are  forgotten,  —  all  save  one.  Who  can  forget  the  bear 

1  A  Ward  of  the  Golden  Gate. 


156  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

cub  that  Bret  Harte  immortalized  under  the  name  of 
Baby  Sylvester !  "  He  was  as  free  from  angles  as  one  of 
Leda's  offspring.  Your  caressing  hand  sank  away  in  his 
fur  with  dreamy  languor.  To  look  at  him  long  was  an  in- 
toxication of  the  senses  ;  to  pat  him  was  a  wild  delirium  ; 
to  embrace  him  an  utter  demoralization  of  the  intellectual 
faculties.  .  .  .  He  takes  the  only  milk  that  comes  to  the 
settlement  —  brought  up  by  Adams*  Express  at  seven 
o'clock  every  morning." 


CHAPTER  IX 

FRIENDSHIP   AMONG  THE   PIONEERS 

In  Bret  Harte's  stories  woman  is  subordinated  to  man, 
and  love  is  subordinated  to  friendship.  This  is  a  strange 
reversal  of  modern  notions,  but  it  was  the  reflection  of 
his  California  experience,  —  reinforced,  possibly,  by  some 
predilection  of  his  own.  There  is  a  significant  remark  in 
a  letter  written  by  him  from  a  town  in  Kansas  where 
he  once  delivered  a  lecture :  "  Of  course,  as  in  all  such 
places,  the  women  contrast  poorly  with  the  men  —  even 
in  feminine  qualities.  Somehow,  a  man  here  may  wear 
fustian  and  glaring  colors,  and  paper  collars,  and  yet 
keep  his  gentleness  and  delicacy,  but  a  woman  in  glaring 
*  Dolly- Vard ens,'  and  artificial  flowers,  changes  natures 
with  him  at  once." 

Friendship  between  one  man  and  another  would  seem 
to  be  the  most  unselfish  feeling  of  which  a  human  being 
is  capable.  The  only  sentiment  that  can  be  compared 
with  it  in  this  respect  is  that  of  patriotism,  and  even  in 
patriotism  there  is  an  instinct  of  self-preservation,  or  at 
least  of  race-preservation.  In  modern  times  the  place 
which  the  friend  held  in  classic  times  is  taken  by  the 
wife  ;  but  in  California,  owing  to  the  absence  of  women 
and  the  exigencies  of  mining,  friendship  for  a  brief  and 
brilliant  period,  never  probably  to  recur,  became  once 
more  an  heroic  passion. 

That  there  was  no  exaggeration  in  Bret  Harte's  pic- 
tures of  Pioneer  friendship  might  be  shown  by  many 
extracts  from  contemporary  observers,  but  one  such  will 
suffice :  —  "  Two  men  who  lived  together,  slept  in  the 
same  cabin,  ate  together,  took  turns  cooking  and  wash- 


158  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ing,  tended  on  each  other  in  sickness,  and  toiled  day  in 
and  day  out  side  by  side,  and  made  an  equal  division  of 
their  losses  and  gains,  were  regarded  and  generally  re- 
garded themselves  as  having  entered  into  a  very  inti- 
mate tie,  a  sort  of  band  of  brotherhood,  almost  as  sacred 
as  that  of  marriage.  The  word  *  partner,'  or  '  pard  '  as 
it  was  usually  contracted,  became  the  most  intimate  and 
confidential  term  that  could  be  used."  ^ 

Even  in  the  cities  friendship  between  men  assumed 
a  character  which  it  had  nowhere  except  in  California. 
Partners  in  business  were  partners  in  all  social  and  often 
in  all  domestic  matters.  They  took  their  meals  and  their 
pleasures  together,  and  showed  that  interest  in  each 
other's  welfare  which,  at  home,  they  would  have  ex- 
pended upon  wives  and  children.  The  withdrawal  of  one 
member  from  a  firm  seemed  like  the  breaking  up  of  a 
family.  The  citizens  of  San  Francisco  and  Sacramento 
were  all  newcomers,  they  were  mostly  strangers  to  one 
another  ;  and  every  partnership,  though  established  pri- 
marily for  business  purposes,  became  a  union  of  persons 
bound  together  by  a  sense  of  almost  feudal  loyalty,  con- 
fident of  one  another's  sympathy  and  support  under  all 
circumstances,  and  forming  a  coherent  group  in  a  chaotic 
community. 

In  the  mines  the  partnership  relation  was  even  more 
idyllic.  Gold  was  sought  at  first  by  the  primitive  method 
of  pan-mining.  The  miners  travelled  singly  sometimes, 
but  much  more  often  in  pairs,  with  knapsacks,  guns  and 
frying-pans  ;  and  they  used  a  wooden  bowl,  or  a  metal 
pan,  and  sometimes  an  Indian  wicker  basket  for  washing 
the  gravel  or  sand  which  was  supposed  to  contain  gold. 
Even  a  family  bread-pan  might  be  made  to  serve  this 
purpose,  and  that  was  the  article  which  the  youthful 
miner,  Jack  Fleming,  borrowed  from  beautiful  Tinka 
Gallinger,  and  so  became  possessed  in  the  end,  not  in- 

1  S.  C.  Upham,  "  Scenes  in  El  Dorado." 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  THE  PIONEERS      159 

deed  of  gold,  but  of  something  infinitely  more  valuable, 
—  Tinka  herself,  the  Treasure  of  the  Redwoods. 

The  operation  of  washing  was  thus  described  by  a 
Pioneer :  "  The  bowl  is  held  in  both  hands,  whirled  vio- 
lently back  and  forth  through  a  half  circle,  and  pitched 
this  way  and  that  sufficiently  to  throw  off  the  earth  and 
water,  while  the  gold  mixed  with  black  sand  settles 
to  the  bottom.  The  process  is  extremely  tiresome,  and 
involves  all  the  muscles  of  the  frame.  In  its  effect  it  is 
more  like  swinging  a  scythe  than  any  other  labor  I  ever 
attempted." 

This  work  was  much  less  laborious  when  the  miner 
had  access  to  a  current  of  water,  and  in  later  times  it 
was  assisted  by  the  use  of  a  magnet  to  draw  away  the 
iron  of  which  the  black  sand  was  largely  composed. 

The  bowl  or  pan  stage  was  the  first  stage,  and  its  ten- 
dency was  to  arrange  the  miners  in  couples  like  that  of 
Tennessee  and  his  Partner.  Next  came  the  use  of  the 
rocker  or  cradle,  —  the  **  golden  canoe,"  as  the  Indians 
called  it.  The  rocker  was  an  oblong  box,  open  at  the 
lower  end,  the  upper  end  being  protected  by  a  screen 
or  grating.  The  screen  intercepted  all  pebbles  and 
gravel,  and  the  finer  material,  earth  and  sand,  was  swept 
through  the  screen  by  the  action  of  water  thrown  or 
directed  against  it.  The  same  water  carried  the  earth 
through  the  box,  and  out  at  the  lower  end ;  but  the 
heavy  sand,  containing  the  gold,  sank  and  was  inter- 
cepted by  cleats  nailed  across  the  inside  of  the  box.  A 
rough  cradle,  formed  from  a  hollow  log,  would  sell  at 
one  time  for  two  hundred  dollars. 

This  process  required  the  services  of  four  or  five  men, 
and  in  pursuing  it  the  miner  ceased  to  be  a  vagrant.  He 
acquired  a  habitation,  more  or  less  permanent,  and  en- 
tered into  various  relationships  with  his  fellows,  which 
finally  included  the  lynching  of  a  small  portion  of  them. 
This  is  the  life  described  by  Bret  Harte  in  The  Luck  of 


i6o  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Roaring  Camp^  Left  Out  on  Lone  Star  Mountain^  and 
many  other  stories. 

The  rocker  period  lasted  only  about  a  year,  and  was 
succeeded  by  that  of  the  sluice,  a  sort  of  magnified  rocker, 
fifty  or  even  a  hundred  feet  long.  The  necessary  stream 
of  water  was  diverted  from  some  river,  or  was  supplied  by 
an  artificial  reservoir.  It  was  the  bursting  of  such  a  reser- 
voir, as  the  Reader  may  remember,  that  precipitated  the 
romance  in  the  life  of  the  Youngest  Miss  Piper. 

But  the  evolution  of  the  industry  was  not  yet  com- 
plete. The  next  step  was  to  explore  the  bed  of  a  river 
by  laboriously  turning  the  stream  aside.  This  was  ac- 
complished by  constructing  a  dam  across  the  river,  and 
directing  the  water  into  a  canal  or  flume  prepared  for  it, 
thus  leaving  the  bed  of  the  river  bare,  perhaps  for  miles. 
These  operations  required  the  labor  of  many  hands,  and 
were  extremely  arduous  and  difficult.  The  dam  could 
be  built,  of  course,  only  in  the  dry  season,  and  the  first 
autumnal  rains  would  be  sure  to  send  the  stream  back  to 
its  old  channel.  The  coming  of  the  rainy  season  in  Cali- 
fornia is  extremely  uncertain,  and  river-bed  mining  was 
correspondingly  precarious.  Sometimes,  great  persever- 
ance in  these  attempts  was  rewarded  by  great  success. 
In  November,  1849,  the  Swett's  Bar  Company,  composed 
of  seventy  miners,  succeeded  in  damming  and  diverting 
the  Sonora  River  after  fifteen  days  of  extreme  exertion. 
Five  hours  later  the  dam  was  swept  away  by  a  flood.  The 
following  summer  the  same  company,  reduced  to  sixty 
members,  constructed  a  second  and  larger  dam,  which 
required  sixty-nine  days'  labor.  This  also  was  swept 
away  on  the  very  day  of  its  completion.  But  the  miners 
did  not  give  up.  The  next  morning  they  began  anew,  the 
directors  leading  the  way  into  the  now  ice-cold  water, 
and  the  rest  of  the  company  following,  some  fairly  shriek- 
ing with  the  contact.  The  dam  was  rebuilt  as  quickly 
as  possible,  —  and,  again,  the  river  brushed  it  aside.  The 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  THE  PIONEERS      i6i 

third  year,  a  remnant  of  the  company,  some  twenty-seven 
stubborn  souls,  for  the  fourth  time  completed  a  dam. 
This  time  it  stood  fast,  and  before  the  rains  set  in  the 
persevering  miners  had  obtained  gold  enough  to  make 
them  all  rich. 

Men  who  had  struggled,  side  by  side,  through  such 
difficulties  and  disappointments  were  bound  by  no  com- 
mon tie,  —  and  the  tie  was  a  still  closer  one  when,  as  in 
the  first  idyllic  days,  the  partnership  consisted  of  two 
members  only. 

Bret  Harte  has  devoted  to  friendship  four  of  his  best 
stories,  namely,  Tennessee' s  PartneVy  Captain  yim's 
Friend^  In  the  TuleSy  Uncle  yim  and  Uncle  Billy.  The 
subject  is  touched  upon  also  in  the  story  called  Under 
the  Eaves. 

Unquestionably  the  best  of  these  stories  is  the  first 
one,  and  if  we  should  also  set  this  down  as  the  best  of 
all  Bret  Harte's  stories,  we  could  not  go  far  wrong.  The 
author  himself  is  said  to  have  preferred  it.  It  is  a  com- 
plete tale  and  a  dramatic  one,  and  yet  it  has  the  sim- 
plicity of  an  incident.  There  is  not,  one  makes  bold  to 
say,  a  superfluous  word  in  it,  and  perhaps  only  one  word 
which  an  exacting  reader  could  wish  to  change.  The 
background  of  scenery  that  the  story  requires  is  touched 
in  with  that  deep  but  restrained  feeling  for  nature,  with 
that  realization  of  its  awful  beauty,  when  contrasted  with 
the  life  of  man,  which  is  a  peculiar  trait  of  modern  lit- 
erature. The  Reader  will  remember  that  rough,  mean, 
kerosene-lighted,  upper  room  in  which  the  trial  took 
place.  "  And  above  all  this,  etched  on  the  dark  firmament, 
rose  the  Sierra,  remote  and  passionless,  crowned  with 
remoter,  passionless  stars." 

The  pathos  of  Tennessee's  Partner  consists  chiefly  in 
the  fact  that  Tennessee,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  him,  was 
unworthy  of  his  partner's  devotion.  He  was  courageous 
and  good-humored,  to  be  sure,  but  he  was  a  robber, 


i62  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

something  of  a  drunkard,  and  inconsiderate  enough  to 
have  run  off  with  his  partner's  wife.  Had  Tennessee 
been  a  model  of  all  the  virtues,  his  partner's  affection 
for  him  would  have  been  a  bestowal  only  of  what  was 
due.  It  would  not  have  been,  as  it  was  in  fact,  the  spon- 
taneous outpouring  of  a  generous  and  affectionate  charac- 
ter. Whether  we  consider  that  the  partner  saw  in  Tennes- 
see something  which  was  really  there,  some  divine  spark 
or  quality,  known  only  to  the  God  who  created  and  to  the 
friend  who  loved  him,  or  that  in  Tennessee  he  beheld  an 
ideal  of  his  own  creation,  something  different  from  the 
real  man,  —  in  either  case  his  affection  is  equally  disin- 
terested and  noble. 

Those  who  do  not  give  the  first  place  to  Tennessee's 
Partner  would  probably  assign  it  either  to  The  Luck  of 
Roaring  Camp  or  The  Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat ;  but  in 
both  of  those  stories  the  element  of  accident  is  util- 
ized, though  not  improbably.  It  was  more  or  less  an  ac- 
cident that  the  Luck  was  swept  away  by  a  flood ;  it  was 
an  accident  that  the  Outcasts  were  banished  on  the 
eve  of  a  storm.  But  in  Tennessee's  Partner^  there  is  no 
accident.  Given  the  characters,  all  the  rest  followed 
inevitably. 

An  acute,  if  somewhat  degenerate  critic,  Mr.  James 
Douglas,  writing  in  the  "Bookman,"^  presents  the  case 
against  the  Luck  and  the  Outcasts  in  its  most  extreme 
form:  "There  is  no  doubt  that  we  have  outgrown  the 
art  which  relies  on  picturesque  lay  figures  grouped 
against  a  romantic  background.  ...  In  Bret  Harte's 
best  stories  the  presence  of  the  scene  painter,  the  stage 
carpenter  and  the  stage  manager  jars  on  our  conscious- 
ness. .  .  .  Bret  Harte  takes  Cherokee  Sal,  an  Indian 
prostitute,  puts  her  in  a  degraded  mining  settlement, 
and  sanctifies  her  by  motherhood.  That  is  good  art.  He 
lets  her  die,  while  her  child  survives.  That  is  not  so  good. 

1  Volume  XV,  page  466. 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  THE  PIONEERS      163 

It  is  the  pathos  of  accident.  He  sends  the  miners  in  to 
see  the  child.  That  is  good  art.  He  makes  the  presence 
of  the  child  work  a  revolution  in  the  camp.  Strong  men 
wash  their  faces  and  wear  clean  shirts  in  order  to  be 
worthy  of  the  child.  That  is  not  good  art.'* 

But  here  let  us  interrupt  Mr.  Douglas  for  a  moment. 
It  should  be  remembered  that  the  clean  faces  and  clean 
shirts  were  not  spontaneous  improvements.  "  Stumpy 
imposed  a  kind  of  quarantine  upon  those  who  aspired  to 
the  honor  and  privilege  of  holding  the  Luck."  Moreover, 
the  miners  of  Roaring  Camp,  like  the  miners  generally  in 
California,  were  no  strangers  to  clean  shirts  or  clean  faces. 
With  few  exceptions,  they  had  been  brought  up  to  ob- 
serve the  decencies  of  life,  and  if,  in  the  wild  freedom 
of  the  mining  camp,  some  of  those  decencies  had  been 
cast  off,  it  was  not  difficult  to  reclaim  them. 

However,  let  us  hear  Mr.  Douglas  out :  "  Finally 
he  drowns  the  child  and  his  readers  in  a  deluge  of  melo- 
dramatic sentiment.  That  is  bad  art.  .  .  .  The  Outcasts 
might  be  analyzed  in  the  same  way.  The  whole  tableau 
is  arranged  with  a  barefaced  resolution  to  draw  your 
tears.  You  feel  that  there  is  nothing  inevitable  in  the  iso- 
lation of  the  Outcasts,  in  the  snow-storm,  in  the  suicide  of 
the  card-sharper,  or  in  the  in-death-they-were-not-divided 
pathos  of  vice  and  virtue.  And  even  Miggles,  I  fear, 
will  hardly  bear  a  close  examination.  The  assault  and 
battery  on  our  emotions  is  too  direct,  too  deliberate.  We 
like  to  be  outflanked  nowadays,  and  the  old-fashioned 
frontal  attack  melts  away  before  our  indulgent  smiles 
with  their  high  velocity  and  flat  trajectory.  M'liss,  alas ! 
no  longer  moves  us.  We  prefer* What  Maisie  Knew*  to 
what  M'liss  didn't  know." 

But  at  this  point  the  Reader  may  become  a  little  im- 
patient. What  attention  should  be  paid  to  a  critic  who 
prefers  the  effeminate  subtleties  of  Henry  James  to  the 
wholesome  pathos  of  Bret  Harte!  And  the  man  himself 


i64  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

seems  to  be  conscious  of  his  degeneracy,  for  he  concludes 
by  saying,  with  admirable  frankness,  "Perhaps,  after 
all,  the  fault  is  ours,  not  Bret  Harte's,  and  we  ought  to 
apologize  for  the  sophisticated  insidiousness  of  our 
nerves." 

One  or  two  obvious  remarks  are  suggested  by  Mr. 
Douglas's  canon  of  romance  against  realism.  If  it  were 
adopted  without  qualification,  sad  havoc  would  be  made 
with  established  reputations.  All  the  great  tragedians 
from  -^schylus  to  Shakspere,  and  almost  all  the  great 
story-tellers  from  Haroun  al  Raschid  to  Daniel  Defoe 
would  suffer.  Antigone,  Juliet  and  Robinson  Crusoe  were 
all  the  victims  of  accident.  Moreover,  without  the  ele- 
ment of  accident,  or  romance  as  Mr.  Douglas  calls  it, 
life  could  not  truly  be  represented.  What  might  con- 
ceivably happen,  and  what  occasionally  does  happen,  are 
as  much  a  part  of  life  as  is  the  thing  which  always  hap- 
pens. Many  a  "Kentuck"  was  swept  away  by  floods  in 
California.  To  perish  in  a  snow-storm  was  by  no  means 
an  unheard-of  event.  It  was  on  the  twenty-third  of  No- 
vember, 1850,  that  the  Outcasts  were  exiled,  and  on 
that  very  day,  as  the  newspapers  recorded  soon  after- 
ward, a  young  man  was  frozen  to  death  in  the  snow 
while  endeavoring  to  walk  from  Poor  Man's  Creek  to 
Grass  Valley.  One  week  later  a  miner  from  Virginia  was 
frozen  to  death  a  few  miles  north  of  Downieville ;  and 
Poker  Flat  and  Downieville  are  in  the  same  county.^ 

To  know  a  man,  we  must  know  how  he  acts  in  the  face 
of  death  as  well  as  how  he  appears  in  his  shop  or  parlor; 
and  therefore,  unusual  and  tragic  events,  as  well  as  com- 
monplace events,  have  their  place  in  good  art. 

But  the  substratum  of  truth  in  Mr.  Douglas's  view 
seems  to  be  this,  that  a  tragedy  which  results  from  the 
character  of  the  hero  or  heroine  is,  other  things  being 
equal,  a  higher  form  of  art  than  the  tragedy  which  results 

1  See  also  page  103,  supra. 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  THE  PIONEERS      165 

wholly,  or  in  part,  from  accident.  If  human  passion  can 
work  out  the  destiny  desired  by  the  author,  without  the 
intervention  of  fire,  flood  or  disease,  without  the  help 
of  any  catastrophe  quaintly  known  in  the  common  law 
as  "  the  act  of  God,"  why  so  much  the  better.  From  this 
point  of  view,  we  may  fairly  place  Tennessee  s  Partner 
even  above  The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp  and  The  Outcasts 
of  Poker  Flat. 

It  only  remains  to  add  that  like  most  of  Bret  Harte's 
stories,  as  we  have  seen,  Tennessee  s  Partner  was  sug- 
gested by  a  real  incident,  which,  however,  ended  happily ; 
and  the  last  chapter  of  the  true  story  may  be  gathered 
from  a  paragraph  which  appeared  in  the  California  news- 
papers in  June,  1903  :  — 

"J.  A.  Chaffee,  famous  as  the  original  of  Tennessee's 
Partner,  has  been  brought  to  an  Oakland  Sanatorium. 
He  has  been  living  since  1849  i^  ^  small  Tuolumne 
county  mining  camp  with  his  partner,  Chamberlain.  In 
the  early  days  he  saved  Chamberlain  from  the  vigilance 
committee  by  a  plea  to  Judge  Lynch  when  the  vigilantes 
had  a  rope  around  the  victim's  throat.  It  was  the  only 
instance  on  record  in  the  county  where  the  vigilantes 
gave  way  in  such  a  case.  Chamberlain  was  accused  of 
stealing  the  miners'  gold,  but  Chaffee  cleared  him,  as 
every  one  believed  Chaffee.  The  two  men  settled  down 
to  live  where  they  have  remained  ever  since,  washing 
out  enough  placer  gold  to  maintain  them.  Professor 
Magee  of  the  University  of  California  found  Chaffee 
sick  in  his  cabin  last  week,  and  induced  him  to  come  to 
Oakland  for  treatment.  Chamberlain  was  left  behind. 
Both  men  are  over  eighty." 

One  who  witnessed  Chaffee's  rescue  of  his  partner 
gives  some  details  of  the  affair,  which  show  how  closely 
Bret  Harte  kept  to  the  facts  until  he  saw  occasion  to 
depart  from  them.  Chaffee  had  a  donkey  and  a  cart  — 
the  only  vehicle  in  the  settlement,  and  he  is  described  as 


i66  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

standing  before  the  vigilance  committee,  "  hat  in  hand, 
his  bald  head  bare,  his  big  bandanna  handkerchief  hang- 
ing loosely  about  his  neck." 

Of  the  four  stories  especially  devoted  to  friendship, 
the  second  is  Captain  Jitns  Friendy  published  in  the 
year  1887.  This  is  almost  a  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  Ten- 
nessee s  PartneVy  for  Captain  Jim's  friend.  Lacy  Bassett, 
is  a  coward,  a  liar,  and  an  impostor.  In  the  end.  Captain 
Jim  discovers  this,  and  he  endeavors  to  wipe  out  the 
disgrace  which,  he  thinks,  Bassett  has  brought  upon  him 
by  forcing  the  latter,  at  the  point  of  his  pistol,  to  a  more 
manly  course  of  conduct.  And  yet,  when  Bassett  com- 
mits the  dastardly  act  of  firing  at  his  life-long  friend  and 
benefactor,  the  heroic  Captain  Jim  feels  not  only  that  his 
own  reputation  for  "foolishness"  is  redeemed,  but  also, 
in  his  dying  moments,  he  recurs  to  his  old  affection  for 
the  man  who  shot  him ;  and  thus  the  tinge  of  cynicism 
which  the  story  would  otherwise  wear  is  removed. 

The  third  story.  In  the  TuleSy  is  a  recurrence  to  the 
theme  of  Tennessee's  Partner^  the  two  leading  characters 
being  almost  a  repetition  of  those  in  the  earlier  story. 
In  the  Tules  has  not  the  spontaneousness  of  its  predeces- 
sor, not  quite  the  same  tragic  reality ;  but  it  is  a  noble 
story,  nevertheless,  and  the  climax  forms  one  of  those 
rare  episodes  which  raise  one's  idea  of  human  nature. 

In  the  fourth  story.  Uncle  yim  and  Uncle  Billy y  pub- 
lished much  later,  Bret  Harte  takes  the  subject  in  a 
lighter  vein.  The  sacrifice  made  to  friendship  is  not  of 
life,  but  of  fortune;  and  though,  unquestionably,  some 
men  would  lay  down  their  lives  more  easily  than  they 
would  give  up  their  property,  yet  the  sacrifice  does  not 
wear  so  tragic  an  aspect. 

In  Left  Out  on  Lone  Star  Mountainy  among  the  very 
best  of  the  later  stories,  we  have  a  little  group  of  miners 
held  together,  inspired,  and  redeemed  from  selfishness 
by  the  youngest  of  their  number,  affectionately  spoken  of 


E.  Boyd  Smith,  del. 

HE   LOOKED   CURIOUSLY   AT   HIS  REFLECTION 
From  "  Left  Out  on  Lone  Star  Mountain  " 


FRIENDSHIP  AMONG  THE  PIONEERS      167 

as  "The  Old  Man,"  one  of  those  brilliant,  fine,  lovable 
natures,  rare  but  not  unknown  in  real  life,  to  which  all 
the  virtues  seem  to  come  as  easily  as  vice  and  weakness 
come  to  the  generality  of  men.^ 

The  hero  of  this  story  plays  a  part  much  resembling 
that  of  the  late  James  G.  Fair,  United  States  Senator 
from  California,  and  a  leading  man  in  the  State.  Mr. 
Fair,  who  was  of  Scotch-Irish  descent,  crossed  the  Plains 
in  1850  with  a  company  of  men  who  were  demoralized 
by  their  privations  and  misfortunes.  Though  the  young- 
est of  the  party,  being  but  eighteen  years  old,  Fair,  by 
mere  force  of  natural  fitness,  became  their  leader;  and 
it  was  owing  to  his  determined  good  nature,  energy  and 
high  spirits  that  they  finally  reached  the  Pacific  Slope. 
A  member  of  the  band  afterward  wrote  :  "  My  comrades 
became  so  peevish  from  the  wear  upon  the  system,  and 
.  .  .  the  absence  of  accustomed  comforts,  that  they  were 
more  like  children  than  men,  and  at  times  it  was  as 
much  as  the  boy  could  do  to  keep  them  from  killing  one 
another."  2 

The  moral  of  Bret  Harte's  stories,  it  has  often  been 
said,  is  that  even  bad  men  have  a  good  side,  and  are 
frequently  capable  of  performing  noble  acts.  But  this, 
surely,  is  only  a  small  part  of  the  lesson,  or  rather  of  the 
inspiration  to  be  derived  from  his  works.  In  fact  most 
of  his  heroes  are  not  bad  men,  but  good  men.  Would  it 
not  be  far  more  true  to  say  that  the  moral  of  Bret  Harte's 
stories  is  very  nearly  the  same  as  the  moral  of  the  New 
Testament,  namely,  that  the  best  thing  a  man  can  do 
with  his  life  or  anything  else  that  he  has,  is  to  give  it  up, 
—  for  love,  for  honor,  for  a  child,  for  a  friend ! 

1  The  late  Sherman  Hoar  of  Concord,  whose  name  is  inscribed  on  the 
tablet  in  Memorial  Hall  devoted  to  those  Harvard  Graduates  who  lost 
their  lives  in  the  Spanish  War,  was  almost  exactly  such  a  character  as 
Bret  Harte  described,  —  long  to  be  remembered  with  affection. 

2  H.  H.  Bancroft,  "  Chronicles  of  the  Builders." 


CHAPTER  X 

GAMBLING   IN   PIONEER  TIMES 

Doubts  have  sometimes  been  cast  upon  Bret  Harte's 
description  of  the  gambling  element  in  California  life, 
but  contemporary  accounts  fully  sustain  the  picture 
which  he  drew.  One  reason  for  the  comparative  respecta- 
bility of  gambling  among  the  Pioneers  was  that  most  of 
the  California  gamblers  came  from  the  West  and  South, 
especially  from  States  bordering  upon  the  Mississippi 
River,  and  in  those  quarters  the  status  of  the  gambler 
was  far  higher  than  in  the  Eastern  or  Middle  parts  of 
the  country.  Early  in  1850  a  whole  ship-load  of  gamblers 
arrived  from  New  Orleans.  They  stopped,  en  route,  at 
Monterey,  went  ashore  for  a  few  hours,  and,  as  a  kind  of 
first-fruits  of  their  long  journey,  relieved  the  Spaniards 
and  Mexicans  resident  there  of  what  loose  silver  and  gold 
they  happened  to  have  on  hand.  These  citizens  of  Mon- 
terey, like  all  the  native  Californians,  were  inveterate 
gamblers ;  but  an  American  who  was  there  at  the  time 
relates  that  they  were  like  children  in  the  hands  of  the 
men  from  New  Orleans  ;  —  and  thus  we  have  one  more 
proof  of  Anglo-Saxon  superiority. 

Nor  does  Bret  Harte's  account  lack  direct  confirm- 
ation. "  The  gamblers,"  says  a  contemporary  historian, 
"  were  usually  from  New  Orleans,  Louisville,  Memphis, 
Richmond,  or  St.  Louis.  Not  infrequently  they  were 
well-born  and  well-educated,  and  among  them  were  as 
many  good,  honest,  square-dealing  men  as  could  be  found 
in  any  other  business;  and  they  were,  as  a  rule,  more 
charitable  and  more  ready  to  help  those  in  distress."^ 

lew.  Haskins,  "  The  Argonauts  of  California." 


GAMBLING  IN  PIONEER  TIMES  169 

A  certain  William  Thornton,  a  gambler  from  St. 
Louis,  known  as  "Lucky  Bill,"  had  many  of  the  traits 
associated  with  Bret  Harte's  gamblers.  He  was  noted 
for  his  generosity,  and,  though  finally  hanged  by  a  vigi- 
lance committee,  he  made  a  "good  end,"  for,  on  the 
scaffold,  he  exhorted  his  son  who  was  among  the  specta- 
tors, to  avoid  bad  company,  to  keep  away  from  saloons, 
and  to  lead  an  industrious  and  honest  life. 

No  surprise  need  be  felt,  therefore,  that  in  California  a 
gambler  like  Jack  Hamlin  should  have  the  qualities  and 
perform  the  deeds  of  a  knight-errant.  Bret  Harte  him- 
self records  the  fact  that  it  was  the  generous  gift  of  a 
San  Francisco  gambler  which  started  the  Sanitary  Com- 
mission in  the  Civil  War,  so  far  at  least  as  California  was 
concerned.  The  following  incident  occurred  in  the  town 
of  Coloma  in  the  summer  of  1849.  Two  ministers,  a  Mr. 
Roberts  and  a  Mr.  Dawson,  preached  there  one  Sunday 
to  a  company  of  miners,  and  one  of  them  held  forth  espe- 
cially against  the  sin  of  gambling.  When  the  collection 
had  been  made,  a  twenty  dollar  and  a  ten  dollar  gold 
piece  were  found,  carefully  wrapped  in  paper,  and  on 
the  paper  was  written  :  "  I  design  the  twenty  dollars  for 
Mr.  Roberts  because  he  fearlessly  dealt  out  the  truth 
against  the  gamblers.  The  ten  dollars  are  for  Mr.  Daw- 
son." The  paper  was  signed  by  the  leading  gambler  in 
the  town. 

The  principal  building  in  the  new  city,  the  Parker 
House,  a  two-story,  wooden  affair,  with  a  piazza  in  front, 
was  erected  in  1849  ^t  a  cost  of  thirty  thousand  dollars, 
and  was  rented  almost  immediately  at  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  a  month  for  games  of  chance.  Almost  everybody 
played,  and  in  '49  and  '50  the  gambling  houses  served  as 
clubs  for  business  and  professional  men.  As  Bret  Harte 
wrote  in  the  Introduction  to  the  second  volume  of  his 
works:  —  "The  most  respectable  citizens,  though  they 
might  not  play,  are  to  be  seen  here  of  an  evening.  Old 


I70  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

friends  who,  perhaps,  parted  at  the  church  door  in  the 
States,  meet  here  without  fear  and  without  reproach. 
Even  among  the  players  are  represented  all  classes  and 
conditions  of  men.  One  night  at  a  faro  table  a  player 
suddenly  slipped  from  his  seat  to  the  floor,  a  dead  man. 
Three  doctors,  also  players,  after  a  brief  examination, 
pronounced  it  disease  of  the  heart.  The  coroner,  sitting 
at  the  right  of  the  dealer,  instantly  impanelled  the  rest  of 
the  players,  who,  laying  down  their  cards,  briefly  gave  a 
verdict  in  accordance  with  the  facts,  and  then  went  on 
with  their  game  !  " 

A  similar  but  much  worse  scene  is  recorded  as  occur- 
ring in  a  Sacramento  gambling  house.  A  quarrel  arose 
in  the  course  of  which  a  man  was  shot  three  times,  each 
wound  being  a  mortal  one.  The  victim  was  placed  in  a 
dying  condition  on  one  of  the  tables ;  but  the  orchestra 
continued  to  play,  and  the  gambling  went  on  as  before 
in  the  greater  part  of  the  room.  A  notorious  woman, 
staggering  drunk,  assailed  the  ears  of  the  dying  man 
with  profane  and  obscene  remarks,  while  another  by- 
stander endeavored  to  create  laughter  by  mimicking  the 
contortions  that  appeared  in  his  face,  as  he  lay  there 
gasping  in  his  death  agony  upon  a  gambler's  table.^ 

In  San  Francisco  the  principal  gambling  houses  were 
situated  in  the  very  heart  of  the  city,  and  they  were  kept 
open  throughout  the  whole  twenty-four  hours.  At  night, 
the  brilliantly  Hghted  rooms,  the  shifting  crowd  of  men, 
diverse  and  often  picturesque  in  costume  and  appear- 
ance, the  wild  music  which  arose  now  and  then,  and 
which,  except  for  the  jingling  of  gold  and  silver,  was 
almost  the  only  sound, — all  this,  as  a  youthful  spectator 
recalled  in  after  years,  "was  a  rapturous  and  fearful 
thing."  The  rooms  were  gorgeously  furnished,  with  a 
superabundance  of  gilt  frames,  sparkling  chandeliers,  and 
ornaments  of  silver. 

1  Benton,  "  The  California  Pilgrim." 


GAMBLING  IN  PIONEER  TIMES  171 

Behind  the  long  bar  were  more  mirrors,  gold  clocks, 
ornamental  bottles  and  decanters,  china  vases,  bouquets 
of  flowers,  and  glasses  of  many  colors  and  fantastic 
shapes. 

The  atmosphere  was  often  hazy  with  tobacco  smoke 
and  redolent  of  the  fumes  of  brandy ;  but  perfect  order 
prevailed,  and  in  the  pauses  of  the  music  not  a  sound 
could  be  heard  except  the  subdued  murmur  of  voices, 
and  the  ceaseless  chink  of  gold  and  silver.  It  was  the 
fashion  for  those  who  stood  at  the  tables  to  have  their 
hands  full  of  coins  which  they  shuffled  backward  and 
forward,  like  so  many  cards.  The  noise  of  a  cane  falling 
upon  the  marble  floor  would  cause  everybody  to  look  up. 
If  a  voice  were  raised  in  hilarity  or  altercation,  the  by- 
standers would  frown  upon  the  offender  with  a  stare  of 
virtuous  indignation.  Every  gambling  house,  even  the 
most  squalid  resort  on  Long  Wharf,  had  its  music,  which 
might  be  that  of  a  single  piano-player  or  fiddler,  or  an 
orchestra  of  five  or  six  performers.  In  the  large  gam- 
bling halls  the  music  was  often  very  good.  Two  thou- 
sand dollars  a  month  for  a  nightly  performance  was  the 
sum  once  offered  to  a  violin-player  by  a  San  Francisco 
gambler;  and,  to  the  honor  of  the  artist  be  it  said,  the 
offer  was  declined. 

All  California,  sooner  or  later,  was  seen  in  the  gam- 
bling rooms  of  San  Francisco:  Mexicans  wrapped  in 
their  blankets,  smoking  cigarettes,  and  watching  the 
game  intently  from  under  their  broad-brimmed  hats; 
Frenchmen  in  their  blouses,  puffing  at  black  pipes; 
countrymen  fresh  from  the  mines,  wearing  flannel  shirts 
and  high  boots,  with  pistols  and  knives  in  their  belts; 
boys  of  ten  or  twelve  years,  smoking  big  cigars,  and 
losing  hundreds  of  dollars  at  a  play,  with  the  noncha- 
lance of  veterans ;  low-browed,  villainous- looking  convicts 
from  Australia ;  thin,  glassy-eyed  men,  in  the  last  stages 
of  a  misspent  life,  clad  in  the  greasy  black  of  a  former 


172  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

gentility.  The  professional  gamblers  usually  had  a  pale, 
careworn  look,  not  uncommon,  by  the  way,  in  California ; 
but  no  danger  or  excitement  could  disturb  their  equa- 
nimity. In  this  respect  the  players  strove  hard  to  imitate 
them,  though  not  always  with  success.  The  most  popular 
games  were  montey  usually  conducted  by  Mexicans,  and 
faro,  an  American  game.  The  French  introduced  rouge- 
et-noivy  roulettey  lansquenet^  and  vingt-et-un. 

In  the  larger  halls  the  custom  was  to  rent  different 
parts  of  the  room  to  different  proprietors,  each  of  whom 
carried  on  his  own  game  independently.  Most  of  the 
proprietors  were  foreigners,  and  many  of  them  were 
women.  These  women  included  some  of  great  beauty, 
and  they  were  all  magnificently  attired,  their  rustling 
silks,  elaborately  dressed  hair  and  glittering  diamonds 
contrasting  strangely  with  the  hairy  faces,  slouch  hats 
and  flannel  shirts  of  the  miners. 

That  gambling  was  looked  upon  at  first  as  a  legitimate 
industry  is  plain  from  the  surprising  fact  that  the  local 
courts  in  Sacramento  upheld  gambling  debts  as  valid, 
and  authorized  their  collection  by  process  of  law.  But 
these  decisions  —  almost  sufficient  to  make  Blackstone 
rise  from  his  grave  —  were  reversed  the  following  year. 

Indeed,  a  healthy  public  opinion  against  gambling  de- 
veloped very  soon.  Even  in  1850,  the  grand  jury  sitting 
at  San  Francisco  condemned  the  practice;  and  in  185 1 
gambling  on  Sunday  was  forbidden  in  that  city  by  an 
ordinance  which  the  authorities  enforced  in  so  far  that 
open  gambling  on  that  day  was  no  longer  permitted.  In 
December,  1850,  an  ordinance  against  gaming  in  the 
streets  was  passed  by  the  city  council  of  Sacramento. 
By  the  end  of  1851  there  was  a  perceptible  decrease  in 
both  gaming  and  drinking  in  all  the  larger  towns  of 
California.  "Gambling  with  all  the  attractions  of  fine 
saloons  and  tastefully  dressed  women  is  on  the  wane  in 
Marysville,"  a  local  observer  reported;  and  the  same 


GAMBLING  IN  PIONEER  TIMES  173 

thing  was  noticed  in  San  Francisco.  The  gambling  house, 
as  a  general  rendez-vous^  was  succeeded  by  the  saloon, 
and  that,  in  turn,  by  the  club. 

Gambling  houses  continued  to  be  licensed  in  San 
Francisco  until  1856,  but  public  opinion  against  them 
steadily  grew.  "They  are  tolerated,"  said  the  "San 
Francisco  Herald,"  "for  no  other  reason  that  we  know 
of  except  that  they  are  charged  heavily  for  licenses.  Al- 
most all  of  them  are  owned  by  foreigners."  By  the  end 
of  the  year  1855,  the  "Bulletin"  was  condemning  the 
gamblers  as  among  the  worst  elements  of  society;  and 
the  death  of  the  "Bulletin's  "  heroic  Editor  in  the  follow- 
ing year  marked  the  close  of  the  gambling  era  in  San 
Francisco.  When  Bret  Harte's  first  stories  were  written 
the  type  represented  by  John  Oakhurst  and  Jack  Ham- 
lin had  begun  to  pass  away,  and  those  worthies  would 
soon  have  been  forgotten. 

But  who  can  forget  them  now !  "  Bret  Harte,"  said 
the  "Academy,"  after  his  death,  "was  the  Homer  of 
Gamblers.  Gamblers  there  had  been  before,  but  they 
were  of  the  old  sullen  type."  In  making  his  gamblers 
good-looking,  Bret  Harte  only  followed  tradition,  and 
the  tradition  is  founded  on  fact.  The  one  essential  trait 
of  the  gambler  is  good  nerves.  These  are  largely  a  mat- 
ter of  good  health  and  physique,  and  good  looks  have 
much  the  same  origin.  It  follows  that  gamblers  having 
good  nerves  should  also  have  good  looks.  It  is  natural, 
too,  that  they  should  have  excellent  manners.  The  habit 
of  easy  shooting  and  of  being  shot  at  is  universally  re- 
cognized as  conducive  to  politeness,  and,  moreover,  a 
certain  persuasiveness  of  manner,  a  mingling  of  suavity 
and  authority,  is  part  of  the  gambler's  stock-in-trade.  An 
American  of  wide  experience  once  declared  that  he  had 
met  but  one  fellow-countryman  whose  manners  could 
fairly  be  described  as  "  courtly,"  and  he  was  a  profes- 
sional gambler  of  Irish  birth.  Good  looks  and  good  man- 


174  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ners,  the  former  especially,  were  very  common  among 
the  California  Pioneers,  and  it  is  but  natural  that  Oak- 
hurst  and  Hamlin  should  have  had  an  unusual  share  of 
these  attractions. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  appears  in  only  a  few  of  the  stories, 
but  there  is  a  certain  intensity  in  the  description  of  him 
which  makes  one  almost  certain  that  he,  like  most  of 
Bret  Harte's  characters,  was  drawn  from  life.  "There 
was  something  in  his  carriage,  something  in  the  pose 
of  his  beautiful  head,  something  in  the  strong  and  fine 
manliness  of  his  presence,  something  in  the  perfect  and 
utter  control  and  discipline  of  his  muscles,  something 
in  the  high  repose  of  his  nature  —  a  repose  not  so  much 
a  matter  of  intellectual  ruling  as  of  his  very  nature,  — 
that  go  where  he  would  and  with  whom,  he  was  always 
a  notable  man  in  ten  thousand." 

In  this  description  one  cannot  help  perceiving  the 
Author's  effort,  not  quite  successful  perhaps,  to  lay  his 
finger  upon  the  essential  trait  of  a  real  and  striking  per- 
sonality. 

In  two  stories  only  does  he  play  the  part  of  hero,  these 
being  ^  Passage  in  the  Life  of  Mr.  John  Oakhurst,  and 
the  immortal  Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat.  The  former  story 
closes  with  a  characteristic  remark.  Two  weeks  after 
the  duel  in  which  his  right  arm  was  disabled,  Mr.  Oak- 
hurst "walked  into  his  rooms  at  Sacramento,  and  in  his 
old  manner  took  his  seat  at  the  faro  table.  *  How 's  your 
arm,  Jack  .-* '  asked  an  incautious  player.  There  was  a 
smile  following  the  question,  which,  however,  ceased  as 
Jack  looked  up  quietly  at  the  speaker.  '  It  bothers  my 
dealing  a  little,  but  I  can  shoot  as  well  with  my  left.' 
The  game  was  continued  in  that  decorous  silence  which 
usually  distinguished  the  table  at  which  Mr.  John  Oak- 
hurst presided." 

It  has  been  objected  by  one  critic  that  Oakhurst  and 
Jack  Hamlin  are  too  much  alike ;  but  if  we  imagine  one 


GAMBLING  IN  PIONEER  TIMES  175 

of  these  characters  as  placed  in  the  situation  of  the 
other,  we  cannot  help  seeing  how  very  different  they 
are.  Jack  Hamlin  could  never  have  been  infatuated,  as 
Oakhurst  was,  by  Mrs.  Decker,  —  or  indeed  by  any 
woman.  Oakhurst  was  too  simple,  too  solid,  too  grave  a 
person  to  understand  women.  He  lacked  the  humor,  the 
sympathy,  the  cynicism,  and  the  acute  perceptive  powers 
of  Hamlin. 

One  of  the  best  scenes  in  all  Bret  Harte  is  that  in 
which  Oakhurst  bursts  in  upon  Mrs.  Decker,  recounts 
her  guilt  and  treachery,  and  declares  his  intention  to  kill 
her  and  then  himself.  "  She  did  not  faint,  she  did  not 
cry  out.  She  sat  quietly  down  again,  folded  her  hands  in 
her  lap,  and  said  calmly,  — 

"  *  And  why  should  you  not } ' 

"Had  she  recoiled,  had  she  shown  any  fear  or  con- 
trition, had  she  essayed  an  explanation  or  apology,  Mr. 
Oakhurst  would  have  looked  upon  it  as  an  evidence  of 
guilt.  But  there  is  no  quality  that  courage  recognizes  so 
quickly  as  courage,  there  is  no  condition  that  despera- 
tion bows  before  but  desperation ;  and  Mr.  Oakhurst's 
power  of  analysis  was  not  so  keen  as  to  prevent  him 
from  confounding  her  courage  with  a  moral  quality. 
Even  in  his  fury  he  could  not  help  admiring  this  daunt- 
less invalid."^ 

Jack  Hamlin's  power  of  analysis  was  far  more  keen  ; 
and  Mrs.  Decker  would  never  have  deceived  him. 

The  two  men  were  equally  brave,  equally  desperate, 
but  perhaps  Oakhurst  was  the  more  heroic.  The  sim- 
plicity of  his  nature  was  more  akin  to  heroism  than  was 
the  dashing,  mercurial,  laughter-loving  temperament  of 
Jack  Hamlin.  Hamlin  is  almost  always  represented  with 
companions,  male  or  female,  but  Oakhurst  was  a  solitary 
man  in  life  as  in  death.  His  dignity,  his  reserve,  even 
his  want  of  humor  tended  to  isolate  him.    Bret  Harte,  it 

1  A  Passage  in  the  Life  of  Mr,  John  Oakhurst. 


176  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

will  be  noticed,  almost  always  speaks  of  him  as  "  Mr." 
Oakhurst.  Though  he  was  numbered  among  the  out- 
casts of  Poker  Flat,  he  was  far  from  being  one  of  them. 

There  is  a  classic  simplicity,  not  only  in  Bret  Harte's 
account  of  Oakhurst,  but  in  the  whole  telling  of  the 
story,  and  a  depth  of  feeling  which  is  more  than  classic. 
Every  line  of  that  marvellous  tale  seems  to  thrill  with 
anticipation  of  the  tragedy  in  which  it  closes ;  and  every 
incident  is  described  in  the  tense  language  of  real  emo- 
tion. "  Mr.  Oakhurst  was  a  light  sleeper.  Toward  morn- 
ing he  awoke  benumbed  and  cold.  As  he  stirred  the 
dying  fire,  the  wind,  which  was  now  blowing  strongly, 
brought  to  his  cheek  that  which  caused  the  blood  to 
leave  it,  —  snow!  " 

Then  comes  the  catastrophe  of  the  snow-storm.  We 
may  condemn  Oakhurst,  on  this  or  that  ground,  for  his 
act  of  self-destruction,  but  we  cannot  regard  it  as  weak 
or  cowardly.  To  be  capable  of  real  despair  is  the  mark 
of  a  strong  character.  A  weaker  man  will  shuffle,  dis- 
guise the  truth  in  his  own  mind,  and  hope  not  only 
against  hope  but  against  reason.  Oakhurst,  when  he  saw 
that  the  cards  were  absolutely  against  him,  having  done 
all  that  he  could  do  for  his  helpless  companions,  deco- 
rously withdrew,  and,  in  the  awful  solitude  of  the  forest 
and  the  storm,  forever  renounced  that  game  of  life  which 
he  had  played  with  so  much  courage  and  skill,  and  yet 
with  so  little  success. 

Jack  Hamlin  figures  much  more  extensively  than  Oak- 
hurst in  the  stories,  and  he  would  probably  be  regarded 
by  most  readers  of  Bret  Harte  as  the  Author's  best  crea- 
tion, surpassing  even  Colonel  Starbottle  ;  —  and,  as  Mr. 
Chesterton  exclaims,  "  How  terrible  it  is  to  speak  of  any 
character  as  surpassing  Colonel  Starbottle !  "  His  traits 
are  now  almost  as  familiar  as  those  of  George  Washing- 
ton ;  but  the  type  was  a  new  one,  and  it  completely 
revolutionized  the  ideal  of  the  gambler  which  had  long 


GAMBLING  IN  PIONEER  TIMES  177 

obtained  both  in  fiction  and  on  the  stage.  As  a  London 
critic  very  neatly  said,  "  With  this  dainty  and  deUcate 
California  desperado,  Bret  Harte  vanquished  forever  the 
turgid  villains  of  Ainsworth  and  Lytton." 

In  his  Bohemiaft  Days  in  San  Francisco  Bret  Harte 
gives  an  account  of  the  real  person  who  was  undoubt- 
edly Jack  Hamlin's  prototype.  He  speaks  of  his  hand- 
some face,  his  pale  Southern  look,  his  slight  figure,  the 
scrupulous  elegance  and  neatness  of  his  dress,  —  his 
genial  manner,  and  the  nonchalance  with  which  he  set 
out  for  the  duel  that  ended  in  his  death. 

In  the  representation  of  Jack  Hamlin  there  are  some 
seeming  discrepancies.  Such,  for  instance,  is  Hamlin's 
arrogant  treatment  of  the  ostler  in  Brown  of  Calaveras, 
and  still  more  his  conduct  toward  Jenkinson,  the  tavern- 
keeper,  whom  Don  Jose  Sepulvida,  with  contrasting 
Spanish  courtesy,  described  as  *'  our  good  Jenkinson,  our 
host,  our  father."  The  barkeeper  in  A  Sappho  of  Green 
Springs  fares  no  better  at  his  hands  ;  and  in  Gabriel 
Conroyy  Bret  Harte,  falling  into  the  manner  of  Dickens 
at  his  very  worst,  represents  Jack  Hamlin  as  concluding 
a  tirade  against  a  servant  by  "  intimating  that  he  would 
forcibly  dislodge  certain  vital  and  necessary  organs  from 
the  porter's  body."  Even  less  excusable  is  his  retort  to 
the  country  youth  in  The  Convalescence  of  Jack  Ham- 
lift ;  and  in  one  story  he  is  actually  guilty  of  rudeness 
to  a  woman,  the  unfortunate  Heiress  of  Red  Dog. 

In  these  passages  Bret  Harte  might  be  accused  of  ad- 
miring Jack  Hamlin  in  the  wrong  place.  But  was  he 
not  rather  consciously  depicting  the  bad  points  of  what 
would  seem  to  have  been  his  favorite  character }  Ham- 
lin had  several  imperfections.  Bret  Harte  does  not  even 
represent  him  as  a  gentleman,  but  only  as  an  approach 
to  one.  In  the  story  which  first  brings  us  face  to  face 
with  him,  the  gambler  is  described  as  lounging  up  and 
down  "  with  that  listless  and  grave  indifference  of  his 


178  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

class  which  was  perhaps  the  next  thing  to  good  breed- 
ing." 

That  there  should  be  any  doubt  as  to  the  author's  at- 
titude upon  this  point  shows  how  carefully  Bret  Harte 
keeps  his  own  personality  in  the  background.  He  does 
not  sit  in  judgment  upon  his  characters ;  he  seldom  says 
even  a  word  of  praise  or  blame  in  regard  to  them.  All 
that  he  leaves  to  the  reader.  Moreover,  he  has  a  rare 
power  of  perceiving  the  defects  of  his  own  heroes  and 
heroines.  Occasionally,  in  fact,  the  reader  of  Bret  Harte 
is  a  little  shocked  by  his  admission  of  some  moral  or 
intellectual  blemish  in  the  person  whom  he  is  sketching ; 
and  yet,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  one  is  always  forced 
to  agree  that  the  blemish  is  really  there,  and  that  with- 
out it  the  portrait  would  be  incomplete  and  misleading. 

A  fine  example  of  this  subtlety  of  art  is  found  in  Ma- 
rujay  where  the  author  frankly  declares  that  his  heroine 
could  not  quite  appreciate  the  delicacy  shown  by  Captain 
Carroll  when  he  abstained  from  any  display  of  affection, 
lest  he  should  presume  upon  the  fact  that  he  had  just 
undertaken  a  difficult  service  at  her  request.  "Maruja 
stretched  out  her  hand.  The  young  man  bent  over  it 
respectfully,  and  moved  toward  the  door.  She  had  ex- 
pected him  to  make  some  protestation — perhaps  even 
to  claim  some  reward.  But  the  instinct  which  made  him 
forbear  even  in  thought  to  take  advantage  of  the  duty 
laid  upon  him,  which  dominated  even  his  miserable  pas- 
sion for  her,  and  made  it  subservient  to  his  exaltation  of 
honor,  ...  all  this,  I  grieve  to  say,  was  partly  unintel- 
ligible to  Maruja,  and  not  entirely  satisfactory.  .  .  .  He 
might  have  kissed  her!  He  did  not." 

Bret  Harte  did  not  describe  perfect  characters  or  mere 
types,  destitute  of  individual  peculiarities,  but  real  men 
and  women.  Let  us,  therefore,  be  thankful  for  Maruja's 
lack  of  delicacy  and  for  Jack  Hamlin's  petulance  and  ar- 
rogance. His  failings  in  this  respect  were  a  part  of  the 


GAMBLING  IN  PIONEER  TIMES  179 

piquancy  of  his  character,  and  in  part,  also,  they  resulted 
from  his  discontent  with  himself. 

This  discontent  is  hidden  by  his  more  obvious  traits, 
his  love  of  music  and  of  children,  the  facile  manner  in 
which  he  charmed  and  subdued  horses,  dogs,  servants, 
women,  and  all  the  other  inferior  animals,  as  Bret  Harte 
somewhere  puts  it ;  his  scorn  of  all  meanness,  his  chival- 
rous defence  of  all  weakness ;  his  iron  nerve ;  his  self- 
confidence  and  easy,  graceful  assurance;  his  apprecia- 
tion of  the  refinements  and  niceties  of  existence.  These 
are  his  obvious  qualities ;  but  behind  them  all  was  some- 
thing more  important  and  more  original,  namely,  an  un- 
dertone of  self-condemnation  which  ran  through  his  life, 
and  gave  the  last  touch  of  recklessness  and  abandon  to 
his  character.  We  never  quite  realize  what  Jack  Ham- 
lin was  until  we  come  to  that  scene  in  the  story  of  his 
protegee  where,  grasping  by  the  shoulders  the  two  black- 
guards who  had  discovered  his  secret  and  were  attempt- 
ing to  take  advantage  of  it,  he  forced  them  beyond 
the  rail,  above  the  grinding  paddle-wheel  of  the  flying 
steamer,  and  threatened  to  throw  himself  and  them 
beneath  it. 

"  *  No,'  said  the  gambler,  slipping  into  the  open  space 
with  a  white  and  rigid  face  in  which  nothing  seemed 
living  but  the  eyes, —  *  No ;  but  it 's  telling  you  how  two 
d — d  fools  who  did  n't  know  when  to  shut  their  mouths 
might  get  them  shut  once  and  forever.  It  's  telling  you 
what  might  happen  to  two  men  who  tried  to  **play" 
a  man  who  didn't  care  to  be  "played," — a  man  who 
did  n't  care  much  what  he  did,  when  he  did  it,  or  how  he 
did  it,  but  would  do  what  he  'd  set  out  to  do  — even  if  in 
doing  it  he  went  to  hell  with  the  men  he  sent  there.'  He 
had  stepped  out  on  the  guards,  beside  the  two  men,  clos- 
ing the  rail  behind  him.  He  had  placed  his  hands  on 
their  shoulders;  they  had  both  gripped  his  arms;  yet, 
viewed  from  the  deck  above,  they  seemed  at  that  mo- 


i8o  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ment  an  amicable,  even  fraternal  group,  albeit  the  faces 
of  the  three  men  were  dead  white  in  the  moonlight." 

One  might  draw  a  parallel,  not  altogether  fanciful,  be- 
tween those  three  figures  standing  in  apparent  quietude 
on  the  verge  of  what  was  worse  than  a  precipice,  and 
those  other  three  that  compose  the  immortal  group  of 
the  Laocoon. 

The  tragedy  of  Jack  Hamlin's  life,  that  which  formed 
a  dark  background  to  his  gay  and  adventurous  career, 
was  his  own  deep  dissatisfaction  with  his  lawless  and 
predatory  manner  of  existence.  In  this  respect,  his  ex- 
perience was  the  universal  experience  intensified ;  and 
that  is  why  one  can  find  in  Hamlin  something  of  that 
representative  character  which  readers  of  many  different 
races  and  kinds  have  found  in  Hamlet.  Who  that  has 
passed  the  first  flush  of  youth,  and  has  ever  taken  a  single 
glance  at  his  own  heart  will  fail  to  sympathize  with  Jack 
Hamlin's  self-disgust !  It  is  this  feeling  that  goes  as  far 
as  anything  can  go  to  reconcile  a  man  to  death,  for  death 
ends  the  struggle.  There  is  no  remorse  in  the  grave. 


CHAPTER  XI 

OTHER  FORMS   OF   BUSINESS 

"Two  years  ago,'*  said  the  "Alta  California"  in  1851, 
"trade  was  a  wild  unorganized  whirl."  Staple  goods 
went  furiously  up  and  down  in  price  like  wild-cat  min- 
ing stocks.  There  was  no  telegraph  by  which  supplies 
could  be  ordered  from  the  East  or  inquiries  could  be 
answered,  and  several  months  must  elapse  before  an 
order  sent  by  mail  to  New  York  could  be  filled.  A  mer- 
chant at  Valparaiso  once  paid  twenty  thousand  dollars 
for  the  information  contained  in  a  single  letter  from 
San  Francisco. 

Consignors  in  the  East  were  almost  wholly  ignorant 
as  to  what  people  needed  in  California,  and  how  goods 
should  be  stowed  for  the  long  voyage  around  the  Cape. 
Great  quantities  of  preserved  food — it  was  before  the 
days  of  canning  —  were  spoiled  en  route.  Coal  was 
shipped  in  bulk  without  any  ventilating  appliances,  and 
it  often  took  fire  and  destroyed  the  vessels  in  which  it 
was  carried.  One  unfortunate  woman,  the  wife  of  a  Cape 
Cod  sea-captain,  was  wrecked  thrice  in  this  way,  having 
been  transferred  from  one  coal-laden  schooner  to  another, 
and  later  to  a  third,  all  of  which  were  set  on  fire  by  the 
heating  of  the  coal,  and  burned  to  the  water's  edge.  In 
one  of  these  adventures  she  was  lashed  to  a  chair  on 
deck,  where  she  spent  five  days,  in  a  rough  sea,  with 
smoke  and  gas  pouring  from  the  ship  at  every  seam. 
Her  final  escape  was  made  in  a  row-boat  which  landed 
at  a  desolate  spot  on  the  coast  of  Peru. 

Elaborate  gold-washing  machines  which  proved  to  be 
useless  and  ready-made  houses  that  nobody  wanted  were 


i82  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

among  the  articles  shipped  to  San  Francisco.  The  rate 
of  interest  was  very  high,  capital  being  scarce,  and  stor- 
age in  warehouses  was  both  insecure,  from  the  great 
danger  of  fire,  and  extremely  expensive.  It  was,  there- 
fore, nearly  impossible  for  the  merchants  to  hold  their 
goods  for  a  more  favorable  market. 

In  July,  1849,  lumber  sold  at  the  enormous  rate  of 
five  hundred  dollars  a  thousand  feet,  —  fifty  times  the 
New  England  price ;  but  in  the  following  Spring,  immense 
shipments  having  arrived,  it  brought  scarcely  enough  to 
pay  the  freight  bills.  Tobacco,  which  at  first  sold  for 
two  dollars  a  pound,  became  so  plentiful  afterward  that 
boxes  of  it  were  used  for  stepping  stones,  and  in  one 
case,  as  Bret  Harte  has  related,  tobacco  actually  supplied 
the  foundation  for  a  wooden  house. 

Holes  in  the  sidewalk  were  stopped  with  bags  of  rice 
or  beans,  with  sacks  of  coffee,  and,  on  one  occasion,  with 
three  barrels  of  revolvers,  the  supply  far  exceeding  even 
the  California  demand  for  that  article.  Potatoes  brought 
sixty  dollars  a  bushel  at  wholesale  in  1 849,  but  were  raised 
so  extensively  in  California  the  next  year  that  the  price 
fell  to  nothing,  and  whole  cargoes  of  these  useful  vege- 
tables, just  arrived  from  the  East,  were  dumped  into  the 
Bay.  In  some  places  near  San  Francisco  it  was  really 
feared  that  a  pestilence  would  result  from  huge  piles  of 
superfluous  potatoes  that  lay  rotting  on  the  ground.  Sale- 
ratus,  worth  in  New  York  four  cents  a  pound,  sold  at 
San  Francisco  in  1848  for  fifteen  dollars  a  pound.  The 
menu  of  a  breakfast  for  two  at  Sacramento  in  the  same 
year  was  as  follows :  — 

I  box  of  sardines,  $16.00 

I  pound  of  hard  bread,  2.00 

1  pound  of  butter,  6.00 
^  pound  of  cheese,  3.00 

2  bottles  of  ale,  16.00 

Total,  $43-00 

Flour  in  the  mining  camps  cost  four  and  even  five  dol- 


OTHER  FORMS  OF  BUSINESS  183 

larsapound,  and  eggs  were  two  dollars  apiece.  A  chicken 
brought  sixteen  dollars  ;  a  revolver,  one  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars ;  a  stove,  four  hundred  dollars ;  a  shovel,  one  hun- 
dred dollars.  Laudanum  was  one  dollar  a  drop,  brandy 
twenty  dollars  a  bottle ;  and  dried  apples  fluctuated  from 
five  cents  to  seventy-five  cents  a  pound.  It  is  matter 
of  history  that  a  bilious  miner  once  gave  fifteen  dollars 
for  a  small  box  of  Seidlitz  powders,  and  at  the  Stanislaus 
Diggings  a  jar  of  raisins,  regarded  as  a  cure  for  the 
scurvy  then  prevailing,  sold  for  their  weight  in  gold, 
amounting  to  four  thousand  dollars.  As  showing  the  de- 
pendence of  California  upon  the  East  for  supplies,  it  is 
significant  that  even  so  late  as  1853  six  thousand  tons  of 
hard  bread  were  imported  annually  from  New  York. 

Wages  and  prices  were  high,  but  nobody  complained 
of  them.  There  was  in  fact  a  disdain  of  all  attempts  to 
cheapen  or  haggle.  Gold  dust  poured  into  San  Francisco 
from  the  launches  and  schooners  which  plied  on  the  Sac- 
ramento River,  and  almost  everybody  in  California  seemed 
to  have  it  in  plenty.  "  Money,"  said  a  Pioneer  in  a  letter 
written  at  the  end  of  '49,  "  is  about  the  most  valueless 
article  that  a  man  can  have  in  his  possession  here." 

As  an  illustration  of  the  lavish  manner  in  which  busi- 
ness was  transacted,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  the  stamp 
box  in  the  express  office  of  Wells,  Fargo  and  Company 
was  a  sort  of  common  treasury.  Clerks,  messengers  and 
drivers  dipped  into  it  for  change  whenever  they  wanted 
a  lunch  or  a  drink.  There  was  nothing  secret  about  this 
practice,  and  if  not  sanctioned  it  was  at  least  winked  at 
by  the  superior  officers.  Huge  lumps  of  gold  were  exhib- 
ited in  hotels  and  gambling  houses,  and  the  jingling  of 
coins  rivalled  the  scraping  of  the  fiddle  as  the  character- 
istic music  of  San  Francisco. 

The  first  deposit  in  the  United  States  Mint  of  gold 
from  California  was  made  on  December  8,  1 848,  and  be- 
tween that  date  and  May  i,  1850,  there  were  presented 


i84  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

for  coinage  gold  dust  and  nuggets  valued  at  eleven  mil- 
lion four  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  dollars.  A  lot  of 
land  in  San  Francisco  rose  from  fifteen  dollars  in  price 
to  forty  thousand  dollars.  In  September,  1850,  bricklayers 
receiving  twelve  dollars  a  day  struck  for  fourteen  dol- 
lars, and  obtained  the  increase.  The  wages  of  carpenters 
varied  from  twelve  dollars  to  twenty  dollars  a  day.  Those 
who  did  best  in  California  were,  as  a  rule,  the  small 
traders,  the  mechanics  and  skilled  workmen,  and  the 
professional  men  who,  resisting  the  temptation  to  hunt 
for  gold,  made  money  by  being  useful  to  the  community. 
"  It  may  truly  be  said,"  remarked  the  "  San  Francisco 
Daily  Herald  "  in  1852,  "that  California  is  the  only  spot 
in  the  world  where  labor  is  not  only  on  an  equality  with 
capital,  but  to  a  certain  extent  is  superior  to  it." 

Women  cooks  received  one  hundred  dollars  a  month, 
and  chambermaids  and  nurses  almost  as  much.  Washer- 
women made  fortunes  and  founded  families.  A  resident 
of  San  Francisco  went  to  the  mines  for  four  weeks, 
and  came  back  with  a  bag  of  gold  dust  which,  he 
thought,  would  astonish  his  wife,  who  had  remained  in 
the  city ;  but  meanwhile  she  had  been  "taking  in  wash- 
ing," at  the  rate  of  twelve  dollars  a  dozen ;  and  he  was 
crestfallen  to  find  that  her  gains  were  twice  as  much  as 
his.  It  was  cheaper  to  have  one's  clothes  sent  to  China 
or  the  Sandwich  Islands  to  be  laundered,  and  some  thrifty 
and  patient  persons  took  that  course.  A  valuable  trade 
sprang  up  between  China  and  San  Francisco.  The  soli- 
tude became  a  village,  and  the  village  a  city,  with  start- 
ling rapidity.  In  less  than  a  year,  twelve  thousand  peo- 
ple gathered  at  Sacramento  where  there  had  not  been 
a  single  soul. 

Events  and  changes  followed  one  another  so  rapidly 
that  each  year  formed  an  epoch  by  itself.  In  1853  men 
spoke  of  1849  as  of  a  romantic  and  half-forgotten  past. 
An  old  citizen  was  one  who  had  been  on  the  ground  a 


OTHER  FORMS  OF  BUSINESS  185 

year.  When  Stephen  J.  Field  offered  himself  as  a  candi- 
date for  the  newly-created  office  of  Alcalde  at  Marysville, 
the  supporters  of  a  rival  candidate  objected  to  Field  as 
being  a  newcomer.  He  had  been  there  only  three  days. 
His  opponent  had  been  there  six  days. 

But  in  185 1  the  material  progress  of  California  received 
a  great,  though  only  a  temporary,  check.  As  commerce 
adjusted  itself  to  the  needs  of  the  community  prices  and 
wages  fell.  A  drink  cost  fifteen  cents  (the  half  of  "two 
bits"),  instead  of  fifty  cents,  which  had  been  the  usual 
price,  and  the  wages  of  day  laborers  shrank  to  five 
dollars  a  day.  The  change  was  thus  humorously  de- 
scribed by  an  editor,  obviously  of  Southern  extraction  : 
"  About  this  time  the  Yankees  began  to  pour  into  San 
Francisco,  to  invest  in  corner  lots,  and  speculate  in 
wooden  gingerbread,  framed  houses  and  the  like.  Prices 
gradually  came  down,  and  money  which  was  once  thrown 
about  so  recklessly  has  now  come  to  be  regarded  as  an 
article  of  considerable  importance." 

In  San  Francisco  there  was  almost  a  commercial  panic. 
The  city  was  heavily  in  debt,  many  private  fortunes  were 
swept  away,  property  was  insecure,  and  robbery  and  mur- 
der were  common  events.  Delano  relates  that  a  young 
man  of  his  acquaintance,  a  wild  and  daring  fellow,  was 
offered  at  this  time  a  salary  of  seven  hundred  dollars  a 
month,  to  steal  horses  and  mules  in  a  large,  systematic 
and  business-like  manner.  ^ 

The  tone  of  the  San  Francisco  papers  in  185 1  was  by 
no  means  cheerful.  The  following  is  the  description  which 
the  *'Alta  California"  gave  of  the  city  in  December  of 
that  year:  "Our  city  is  certainly  an  unfortunate  one  in 
the  matter  of  public  accommodation.  Her  wharves  are  ex- 
posed to  tempestuous  northers  and  to  the  ravages  of  the 
worm ;  the  piles  that  are  driven  into  the  mud  for  houses 
to  rest  upon  are  forced  out  of  their  perpendicular  and 
1  Delano,  "  Life  on  the  Plains." 


i86  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

crowded  over  by  pressure  of  sand  used  in  filling  in  other 
water  lots  against  them ;  a  most  valuable  portion  of  the 
city  survey  is  converted  into  a  filthy  lake  or  salt  water 
laguna  filled  with  garbage,  dead  animals  and  refuse  matter 
from  the  streets ;  the  streets  are  narrow  and  are  con- 
structed with  sidewalks  so  irregular,  miserable,  and  be- 
hampered  as  to  drive  off  passengers  into  the  middle  of 
the  street  to  take  the  chance  of  being  ridden  over  and 
trampled  under  foot  by  scores  of  recklessly  driven  mules 
and  horses;  with  drays,  wagons  and  carriages  without 
number  to  deafen,  confuse  and  endanger  the  unfortunate 
pedestrian.  A  few  thin  strips  of  boards,  pieces  of  dry- 
goods  boxes  or  barrel  staves  constitute  the  sidewalks  in 
some  of  our  most  important  thoroughfares,  and  even  this 
material  is  so  irregularly  and  insecurely  laid  that  the 
walks  are  shunned  as  stumbling  places  full  of  man-traps ; 
more  than  all  this,  the  sidewalks  of  the  principal  streets 
in  the  city  are  strewn  and  obstructed  with  shop  wares." 

The  first  Vigilance  Committee  of  185 1  checked  crime 
and  restored  order  for  a  short  period,  and  the  second 
Vigilance  Committee  of  1856,  together  with  the  election 
which  followed  it,  effected  a  most  decided  and  lasting 
improvement  in  the  government  of  San  Francisco,  and 
especially  in  the  management  of  its  police.  In  the  brief 
account  already  given  of  James  King  and  his  career,  this 
episode  in  California  life  has  been  touched  upon. 

The  fires  which  successively  overran  the  cities  of  Cali- 
fornia, and  especially  San  Francisco,  were  another  source 
of  disaster  to  the  business  world.  There  were  many  small 
fires  in  San  Francisco  and  six  conflagrations,  all  within 
two  years.  The  first  of  these  occurred  in  December,  '49, 
the  loss  being  about  one  million  dollars.  A  characteristic 
act  at  this  fire  was  that  of  a  merchant  whose  shop  had 
been  burned,  but  who  had  saved  several  hundred  suits  of 
black  clothes.  Having  no  place  for  storing  them,  and 
seeing  that  they  would  be  stolen  or  ruined,  he  gave  them 


OTHER  FORMS  OF  BUSINESS  187 

away  to  the  bystanders.  "  Help  yourselves,  gentlemen ! " 
he  cried.  The  invitation  was  accepted,  and  the  next  day 
an  unusual  proportion  of  the  citizens  of  San  Francisco 
were  observed  to  be  in  mourning. 

In  May,  and  again  in  June,  1850,  there  were  large 
fires,  and  it  was  after  these  disasters  that  the  use  of  cloth 
for  the  sides  and  roofs  of  buildings  was  prohibited  by 
law.  Up  to  that  time  the  shops  of  the  city  had  been 
constructed  very  commonly  of  that  highly  inflammable 
material. 

In  September,  1850,  there  was  another  but  less  de- 
structive fire,  and  on  May  4,  185 1,  occurred  the  "great 
fire,"  in  which  the  loss  of  property  was  at  least  seven 
million  dollars.  It  was  estimated  at  the  time  at  fifteen 
million  dollars.  This  conflagration  produced  a  night  of 
horror  such  as  even  California  had  not  seen  before.  The 
fire  started  at  eleven  p.  m.,  and  the  flames  were  fanned 
by  a  strong,  westerly  breeze.  The  glow  in  the  sky  was 
seen  at  Monterey,  —  one  hundred  miles  distant.  So  rap- 
idly did  the  flames  spread  that  merchants  in  some  cases 
removed  their  stock  of  goods  four  or  five  times,  and  yet 
had  them  overtaken  and  destroyed  in  the  end.  Since  the 
burning  of  Moscow  no  other  city  had  suffered  so  much 
from  fire.  Delicate  women,  driven  from  their  homes  at 
midnight,  were  wandering  through  the  streets,  with  no 
protection  from  the  raw  wind  except  their  nightclothes. 
A  sick  man  was  carried  from  his  bed  in  a  burning  house, 
and  placed  in  the  street,  where,  amid  all  the  turmoil  of 
the  scene,  the  roaring  of  the  flames,  the  shouts,  cries  and 
imprecations  of  men,  amid  falling  sparks  and  cinders, 
and  jostled  by  the  half -frenzied  passers-by,  he  breathed 
his  last. 

Among  the  brave  acts  performed  at  this  fire  was  that 
of  a  clerk  who  picked  up  a  burning  box  which  contained 
canisters  of  powder,  carried  it  a  block  on  his  shoulder, 
and  threw  it  into  a  pool  of  water.  It  was  during  this  fire, 


i88  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

also,  that  an  American  flag,  released  by  the  burning  of 
the  cord  which  held  it,  soared  away,  above  the  flames  and 
smoke,  while  a  cry  that  was  half  a  cheer  and  half  a  sob, 
burst  from  the  throats  of  the  crowd  beneath  it. 

But,  great  as  this  disaster  was,  the  merchants  rallied 
from  it  with  true  California  courage.  "  One  year  here," 
wrote  the  Reverend  Mr.  Colton,  "will  do  more  for  your 
philosophy  than  a  lifetime  elsewhere.  I  have  seen  a  man 
sit  and  quietly  smoke  his  cigar  while  his  house  went 
heavenward  in  a  column  of  flame."  This  was  exempli- 
fied in  the  great  fire.  Men  began  to  fence  in  their  lots 
although  the  smouldering  ruins  still  emitted  an  almost 
suflbcating  heat.  Contracts  for  new  stores  were  made 
while  the  old  ones  were  yet  burning ;  and  in  many  cases 
the  ground  was  cleared,  and  temporary  buildings  went 
up  before  the  ashes  of  the  burned  buildings  had  cooled. 
Lumber,  fortunately,  was  abundant,  and  the  morning 
after  the  fire  every  street  and  lane  leading  to  the  ruined 
district  was  crowded  with  wagons  full  of  building  tools 
and  material.  The  city  resembled  a  hive  of  bees  after  it 
has  been  rifled  of  its  honey. 

The  smaller  cities  suffered  almost  as  severely  from 
fire.  Sacramento  was  burned  twice  and  flooded  three 
times  before  the  year  1854.  In  The  Reincarnation  of 
Smithy  Bret  Harte  describes  the  appearance  of  the  city 
when  the  river  upon  which  it  is  situated  suddenly  burst 
its  banks  and  "a  great  undulation  of  yellow  water"  swept 
through  the  streets  of  the  city.  Two  other  stories.  In 
the  Tules  and  When  the  Waters  Were  Up  at  ''Jules';' 
deal  with  the  floods  of  1854  and  of  i860,  and  in  the 
first  of  these  the  escape  of  Martin  Morse,  the  soli- 
tary inhabitant  of  the  river-bank,  is  described.  "But 
one  night  he  awakened  with  a  start.  His  hand,  which 
was  hanging  out  of  his  bunk,  was  dabbling  idly  in 
water.  He  had  barely  time  to  spring  to  his  middle  in 
what  seemed  to  be  a  slowly  filling  tank  before  the  door 


OTHER  FORMS  OF  BUSINESS  189 

fell  out  as  from  inward  pressure,  and  his  whole  shanty 
collapsed  like  a  pack  of  cards.  But  it  fell  outwards,  the 
roof  sliding  from  over  his  head  like  a  withdrawn  canopy ; 
and  he  was  swept  from  his  feet  against  it,  and  thence 
out  into  what  might  have  been  another  world !  For  the 
rain  had  ceased,  and  the  full  moon  revealed  only  one 
vast,  illimitable  expanse  of  water !  As  his  frail  raft  swept 
under  a  cottonwood  he  caught  at  one  of  the  overhanging 
limbs,  and,  working  his  way  desperately  along  the  bough, 
at  last  reached  a  secure  position  in  the  fork  of  the  tree." 

Martin  Morse  was  saved  eventually ;  but  another  vic- 
tim of  the  same  flood,  and  not  a  fictitious  one,  was  found 
dead  from  exposure  and  exhaustion  in  the  tree  which  he 
had  reached  by  swimming.  So  close,  even  in  small  inci- 
dents, are  Bret  Harte's  stories  to  the  reality  of  California 
life! 

During  this  freshet  a  man  and  his  wife,  who  occupied 
a  ranch  on  the  Feather  River,  had  an  experience  more 
remarkable  than  that  of  Martin  Morse.  They  took  refuge, 
first,  on  the  roof  of  their  house,  and  then,  when  the  house 
floated  off,  they  clung  to  a  piece  of  timber,  and  so  drifted 
to  a  small  island.  But  here  they  found  a  prior  occupant 
in  the  person  of  a  grizzly  bear,  and  to  escape  him  they 
climbed  a  tree,  whence  they  were  rescued  the  next 
morning. 

What  with  fire  and  flood  added  to  the  uncertainties 
and  vicissitudes  of  trade  carried  on  thousands  of  miles 
from  the  base  of  supplies,  with  no  telegraphic  communi- 
cation and  only  a  fortnightly  mail ;  what  with  land  val- 
ues rising  and  falling;  with  cities  and  towns  springing 
up  like  mushrooms  and  often  withering  as  quickly ;  — 
under  these  circumstances,  and  in  a  stimulating  climate, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  the  Californians  lived  a  feverish,  and 
often  a  reckless  life.  The  Pioneers  could  recount  more 
instances  of  misfortune  and  more  triumphs  over  misfor- 
tune than  any  other  people  in  the  world.  But  suicides 


IQO  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

were  frequent,  —  they  numbered  twenty-nine  in  San 
Francisco  in  a  single  year,  —  and  one  of  the  first  public 
buildings  erected  by  the  State  was  an  Insane  Asylum  at 
Stockton.  It  was  quickly  filled. 

Nevertheless,  contemporary  with  the  feverish  life  of 
the  mining  camp  and  the  city  was  the  life  of  the  farm 
and  the  vineyard;  and  this,  too,  was  not  neglected  by 
Bret  Harte.  The  agricultural  resources  of  California  were 
beginning  to  be  known  even  before  the  discovery  of 
gold,  and  many  of  those  who  crossed  the  Plains  in  '49 
and  '50  were  bent  not  upon  mining  but  upon  farming. 
Others,  who  failed  as  miners,  or  who  were  thrown  out  of 
business  by  the  hard  times  of  '51  and  '56,  turned  to  the 
fertile  valleys  and  hillsides  for  support.  Monterey,  on  the 
lower  coast  of  central  California,  was  the  sheep  county ; 
and  flocks  of  ten  thousand  from  Ohio  and  of  one  hundred 
thousand  from  Mexico  were  grazing  there  before  i860. 
In  that  year  it  was  said  to  contain  more  sheep  than 
could  be  found  in  any  other  county  in  the  United 
States.  Tasajara  was  known  as  a  "cow  county." 

An  immigrant  from  New  Jersey,  in  1850,  brought 
thirty  thousand  fruit  trees;  and  by  1859  the  Foot-Hills 
in  the  counties  of  Yuba,  Nevada,  El  Dorado  and  Sacra- 
mento were  covered  with  vineyards,  interspersed  with 
vine-clad  cottages,  where,  a  few  years  before,  there  had 
been  only  the  rough  and  scattered  huts  of  a  few  miners. 

Immense  quantities  of  wheat  were  raised,  especially 
in  Humboldt  County  on  the  northern  coast  of  the  State, 
where  we  hear  of  crops  averaging  sixty  bushels  to  the 
acre.  In  i860  the  surplus  of  wheat,  the  quantity,  that 
is,  available  for  exportation,  exceeded  three  million  bush- 
els ;  and  the  barley  crop  was  still  larger.  The  Stanislaus 
and  Santa  Clara  Valleys,  not  far  from  San  Francisco, 
and  southeast  of  the  city,  were  also  grain-growing  dis- 
tricts, as  is  recorded  in  Bret  Harte' s  story  Through  the 
Santa  Clara  Wheat. 


OTHER  FORMS    OF  BUSINESS  191 

He  describes  his  heroine  as  following  her  guide  be- 
tween endless  rows  of  stalks,  rising  ten  and  even  twelve 
feet  high,  like  "  a  long,  pillared  conservatory  of  greenish 
glass."  "  She  also  discovered  that  the  close  air  above 
her  head  was  continually  freshened  by  the  interchange 
of  lower  temperature  from  below,  —  as  if  the  whole  vast 
field  had  a  circulation  of  its  own,  —  and  that  the  adobe 
beneath  her  feet  was  gratefully  cool  to  her  tread.  There 
was  no  dust ;  what  had  at  first  half  suffocated  her  seemed 
to  be  some  stimulating  aroma  of  creation  that  filled  the 
narrow  green  aisles,  and  now  imparted  a  strange  vigor 
and  excitement  to  her  as  she  walked  along." 

So  early  as  1851  the  newspapers  began  to  publish 
articles  about  the  opportunities  for  farming,  and  soon 
afterward  the  "  California  Farmer,"  an  excellent  weekly, 
was  started  at  Sacramento,  and  supplied  the  community 
with  news  in  general  as  well  as  with  agricultural  inform- 
ation. One  can  imagine  the  relief  with  which  in  those 
strenuous  days  the  reader  of  the  "  Farmer  "  turned  from 
accounts  of  robbery,  murder,  suicide  and  lynching  to 
gentle  disquisitions  upon  the  rearing  of  calves,  the  merits 
of  Durham  steers,  and  the  most  approved  method  of 
fattening  sheep  in  winter.  The  Hubbard  squash,  then  a 
novelty,  was  treated  by  the  "  Farmer  "  as  seriously  as 
the  Constitutional  Convention,  or  the  expulsion  of  for- 
eigners from  the  mines.  Practical  subjects,  as  for  in- 
stance, subsoil  ploughs,  remedies  for  smut,  and  recipes 
for  rhubarb  wine,  were  carefully  discussed  by  this  Pioneer 
agriculturist;  and  not  infrequently  he  rose  to  higher 
themes,  such  as  "The  Age  of  the  Earth,"  and  "The  In- 
fluence of  Females  on  Society." 


CHAPTER  XII 

LITERATURE,   JOURNALISM   AND    RELIGION 

Most  of  the  newspaper  men  in  the  early  days  of  Cali- 
fornia were  Southerners  or  under  Southern  influence,  as 
is  plain  from  many  indications.  For  example,  duelling  and 
shooting  at  sight  were  common  editorial  functions.^ 

Bret  Harte,  in  An  Episode  of  Fiddletown^  gives  an  in- 
stance :  "  An  unfortunate  rencontre  took  place  on  Mon- 
day last  between  the  Honorable  Jackson  Flash,  of  the 
*  Dutch  Flat  Intelligencer,'  and  the  well-known  Colonel 
Starbottle  of  this  place,  in  front  of  the  Eureka  Saloon. 
Two  shots  were  fired  by  the  parties  without  injury  to 
either,  although  it  is  said  that  a  passing  Chinaman 
received  fifteen  buckshot  in  the  calves  of  his  legs  from 
the  Colonel's  double-barrelled  shotgun  which  were  not 
intended  for  him.  John  will  learn  to  keep  out  of  the  way 
of  Melican  man's  firearms  hereafter." 

This  fictitious  incident  can  be  paralleled  almost  ex- 
actly from  the  California  papers  of  the  day.  In  July, 
185 1,  a  certain  Colonel  Johnston  pulled  the  nose  of  the 
Editor  of  the  "Marysville  Times,"  whereupon  the  Editor 
drew  a  pistol,  and  the  Colonel  ran  away.  In  September 
of  the  same  year  the  "  Alta  California  "  announced  that 
a  duel  between  one  of  the  proprietors  of  that  paper  and  a 
brother  to  the  Governor  of  the  State  had  been  prevented 
by  the  police.  In  March,  185 1,  two  Sacramento  Editors 
had  a  dispute  in  the  course  of  which  one  endeavored 
to  shoot  the  other.  In  May  of  the  same  year,  the  Editor 

1  "  The  Virginia  Editor  is  a  young,  unmarried,  intemperate,  pugna- 
cious, gambling  gentleman."  —  George  W.  Bagby,  "The  Old  Virginia 
Gentlemen  and  Other  Sketches." 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     193 

of  the  "  Calaveras  Chronicle  "  fought  a  duel  with  another 
citizen  of  that  town,  and  was  dangerously  wounded.  In 
November,  i860,  the  Editor  of  the  "  Visalia  Delta"  was 
killed  in  a  street  affray.  In  San  Francisco  a  duel  took 
place  between  ex-Governor  McDougall  and  the  Editor  of 
"The  Picayune,"  "A.  C.  Russell,  Esq." 

This  use  of  "Esquire,"  by  the  way,  was  an  English 
custom  imported  to  California  by  way  of  the  South,  and 
many  humorous  examples  of  it  may  be  found  in  Bret 
Harte.  Thus,  in  the  "Star's"  account  of  "  Uncle  Ben" 
Dabney's  sudden  elevation  to  wealth  and  to  a  more  aris- 
tocratic name,  we  read:  "Benjamin  Daubigny,  Esq.,  who 
left  town  for  Sacramento  on  important  business,  not 
entirely  unconnected  with  his  new  interests  in  Indian 
Springs,  will,  it  is  rumored,  be  shortly  joined  by  his  wife, 
who  has  been  enabled  by  his  recent  good  fortune  to 
leave  her  old  home  in  the  States,  and  take  her  proper 
proud  position  by  his  side.  .  .  .  Mr.  Daubigny  was  accom- 
panied by  his  private  secretary,  Rupert,  the  eldest  son 
of  H.  G.  Filgee,  Esq.,"  —  "H.  G.  Filgee,  Esq."  being  a 
species  of  bar-room  loafer. 

Another  indication  of  the  Southern  origin  of  Califor- 
nian  Editors  is  the  Starbottlian  lack  of  humor  which  they 
often  display.  In  August,  1850,  the  junior  Editor  of  the 
"Alta  California"  published  an  extremely  long  letter 
in  that  paper  describing  his  personal  difficulties  with  two 
acquaintances,  and  concluding  as  follows  :  "  I  had  simply 
intended  in  our  interview  to  pronounce  Messrs.  Crane 
and  Rice  poltroons  and  cowards,  and  spit  in  their  faces; 
and  had  they  seen  fit  to  resent  it  on  the  spot,  I  was  pre- 
pared for  them."  —  Nothing  more.  The  "Sacramento 
Transcript "  concluded  the  account  of  a  funeral  as  fol- 
lows :  "She  was  buried  in  a  neat  mahogany  coffin,  fur- 
nished by  Mr.  Earle  Youmans  at  one  half  the  estab- 
lished price."  The  "San  Francisco  Daily  Herald"  of 
June  21,  1852,  contains  a  very  long,  minute,  and  ex- 


194  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

tremely  technical  account  of  a  prize-fight,  written  with  evi- 
dent relish,  but  concluding  with  a  wholly  unexpected  com- 
ment as  follows:  "Thus  ended  this  brutal  exhibition!" 

The  editorial  tone,  especially  in  San  Francisco,  was 
distinguished  by  great  solemnity,  but  it  was  the  assumed 
solemnity  of  youth,  for  the  Editors,  like  everybody  else 
in  California,  were  young.  None  but  a  youthful  journal- 
ist could  have  written  a  leading  article,  published  one 
Monday  in  a  San  Francisco  paper,  describing  a  sermon 
which  the  writer  had  heard  on  the  preceding  Sunday, 
giving  the  name  of  the  preacher,  and  complaining  bitterly, 
not  that  he  was  heterodox  or  bigoted,  but  that  he  was 
stupid  and  uninteresting ! 

In  fact,  the  California  Editors,  despite  the  solemnity 
of  their  tone,  showed  a  decided  inclination  to  deal  with 
the  amusing,  rather  than  with  the  serious,  aspects  of  life. 
The  "Sacramento  Transcript"  in  August,  1850,  con- 
tained a  column  letter,  in  large  type,  minutely  describ- 
ing "an  alleged  difficulty  "  which  occurred  at  the  Ameri- 
can Fork  House,  between  Mr.  Gelston  of  Sacramento, 
and  Mr.  Drake,  "who  has  been  stopping  at  this  place 
for  his  health,"  —  with  poor  results,  it  is  to  be  feared.  In 
another  issue  of  the  same  paper  two  columns  are  devoted 
to  an  account  of  a  practical  joke  played  upon  a  French 
barber  in  San  Francisco. 

Most  of  all,  however,  did  the  California  journalists  be- 
tray their  youth,  and  their  Southern  origin  as  well,  by  the 
ornate  style  and  the  hyperbole  in  which  the  early  papers 
indulged,  and  which  are  often  satirized  by  Bret  Harte.  An 
editorial  article  dealing  with  the  prospects  of  California 
began  as  follows :  "  When  the  eagle,  emblem  of  model 
Republican  liberty,  winged  its  final  flight  westward  from 
its  home  where  Atlantic  surges  chafe  our  shores,  and 
sought  the  sunny  clime  of  the  mild  Pacific  Strand,  it  bore 
in  its  strong  talons,"  and  so  forth  for  a  sentence  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  words. 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     195 

But  the  California  newspapers,  though  often  crude 
and  provincial,  were  almost  wholly  free  from  vulgarity. 
In  this  respect  they  far  excelled  the  average  newspaper 
of  to-day.  There  was  nothing  of  the  Philistine  about 
them.  They  give  the  impression  of  having  been  written 
"by  gentlemen  and  for  gentlemen."  These  California 
writers  were,  indeed,  very  young  gentlemen,  as  we  have 
seen,  and  they  often  lacked  breadth  of  view,  self-restraint, 
and  knowledge  of  the  world,  but  they  were  essentially 
men  of  honor,  and  in  public  matters  they  took  high 
ground.  The  important  part  played  by  the  "  Bulletin  " 
and  its  Editor,  James  King,  has  already  been  described. 
Nor  did  they  lack  literary  skill,  as  is  sufficiently  shown 
by  some  of  the  passages  from  San  Francisco  papers  al- 
ready quoted.  A  correspondent  of  the  **  Sacramento 
Transcript,"  writing  in  July,  1850,  from  the  northern 
mines,  gives  an  account  of  the  destruction  by  fire  of  a 
store  and  restaurant  owned  by  a  Mr.  Cook,  concluding 
as  follows  :  "  With  the  recuperative  energy  so  peculiar  to 
American  character,  Mr.  Cook  has  already  gone  down 
to  your  city  to  purchase  a  new  stock,  having  reestab- 
lished his  boarding-house  before  leaving.  The  son  of 
Ethiopia  who  conducts  the  culinary  department  is  not 
the  darker  for  *  the  cloud  which  has  lowered  o'er  our 
house,'  and  deprived  him  of  many  of  the  instruments  of 
his  office." 

The  delicate  humor  of  the  last  sentence  does  not  seem 
out  of  place  in  the  "Sacramento  Transcript"  of  that 
date.  The  same  paper  published  on  the  fourth  of  July, 
1850,  a  patriotic  leader  which  closed  with  these  words, 
—  they  appear  far  from  extravagant  now,  but  at  that 
time  they  must  have  sounded  like  a  rash  and  audacious 
prophecy:  "  *  God  Save  the  Queen '  and  'Yankee  Doodle' 
will  blend  in  unison  around  the  world." 

The  first  newspaper  published  in  California  was  a 
small  sheet  called  "The  Californian,"  started  at  Mon- 


196  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

terey  in  the  Fall  of  1846,  and  printed  half  in  English, 
half  in  Spanish.  Needless  to  say,  its  conductors  were 
Americans.^  They  had  discovered  in  the  ruins  of  the 
Mission,  and  used  for  this  purpose,  an  old  press  which 
the  Spaniards  had  imported  in  the  day  of  their  rule  for 
printing  the  edicts  of  the  Governor.  In  the  following 
year  "  The  Californian  "  was  removed  to  San  Francisco. 
Many  other  newspapers  sprang  into  existence  after  the 
discovery  of  gold,  especially  the  "  Alta  California,"  which 
became  the  leading  journal  on  the  Pacific  Slope.  By 
the  end  of  1850  there  were  fifteen  newspapers  in  the 
State,  including  six  daily  papers  in  San  Francisco,  and 
that  excellent  home  and  farm  weekly,  the  "  California 
Farmer." 

As  for  the  buoyant,  confident  tone  of  these  Pioneer 
papers,  exaggerated  though  it  was,  it  only  reflected  the 
general  feeling.  So  early  as  November,  185 1,  a  meeting 
was  held  in  San  Francisco  to  advocate  the  building  of  a 
railroad  which  should  connect  the  Atlantic  with  the 
Pacific.  In  June,  1850,  the  "Sacramento  Transcript" 
warned  Europe  as  follows :  "  The  present  is  the  most 
remarkable  period  the  world  has  ever  been  called  upon 
to  pass  through.  .  .  .  The  nations  are  centering  hither- 
ward.  Europe  is  poor,  California  is  rich,  and  equilibrium 
is  inevitable.  Four  years  will  pass,  and  ours  will  be  the 
most  popular  State  in  the  Union.  She  is  putting  in  the 
Keystone  of  Commerce,  and  concentrating  the  trade  of 
the  world." 

Moreover,  busy  as  the  Pioneers  were,  their  reading 
was  not  confined  to  newspapers.  Bret  Harte  said  of 
them  :  "  Eastern  magazines  and  current  Eastern  litera- 
ture formed  their  literary  recreation,  and  the  sale  of  the 
better  class  of  periodicals  was  singularly  great.  Nor  was 

1  They  were  the  Reverend  Walter  Colton,  Chaplain  in  the  United  States 
Navy,  and  Alcalde,  as  already  mentioned,  and  Dr.  Robert  Semple,  a  well- 
known  Pioneer  politician. 


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LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     197 

their  taste  confined  to  American  literature.  The  illus- 
trated and  satirical  English  journals  were  as  frequently- 
seen  in  California  as  in  Massachusetts ;  and  the  author 
records  that  he  has  experienced  more  difficulty  in  procur- 
ing a  copy  of  *  Punch '  in  an  English  provincial  town  than 
was  his  fortune  at  *  Red  Dog '  or  *  One-Horse  Gulch.' " 

This  statement  has  been  questioned,  but  it  is  borne  out 
by  the  contemporary  records  and  publications.  The  "At- 
lantic Monthly,"  for  example,  was  regularly  advertised 
in  the  California  papers,  and  the  "Atlantic  "  at  that  time 
was  essentially  a  literary  magazine.  In  the  list  of  its 
contributors  published  in  the  "California  Farmer"  are 
the  names  of  Emerson,  Longfellow,  Lowell,  Holmes, 
Parsons,  Whittier,  Prescott,  Mrs.  Stowe,  Motley,  Her- 
man Melville,  C.  C.  Felton,  F.  J.  Child,  Edmund  Quincy, 
J.  T.  Trowbridge,  and  G.  W.  Curtis.  The  London  "  Il- 
lustrated News  "  had  a  particularly  large  sale  among  the 
Pioneers,  although  the  California  price  was  a  dollar  a 
copy. 

The  shifting  character  of  the  population,  and  the  fact, 
already  mentioned,  that,  almost  to  a  man,  the  Pioneers 
expected  to  return  to  the  East  within  a  few  months,  or, 
at  the  latest,  within  a  year  or  two,  —  these  reasons  dis- 
couraged the  founding  of  permanent  institutions  such 
as  libraries  and  colleges ;  but  even  in  this  direction 
something  was  done  at  an  early  date.  The  rush  of  im- 
migration began  in  the  Spring  of  1849,  and  within  less 
than  a  year  a  meeting  had  been  held  at  San  Francisco 
to  establish  a  State  college ;  a  State  library  had  been 
founded  at  San  Jos6 ;  mercantile  library  associations  had 
been  started  both  in  San  Francisco  and  Sacramento,  and 
an  auction  sale  of  books  had  been  held  in  the  latter  city. 

In  September,  1850,  an  audience  gathered  at  Stockton 
to  hear  a  lecture  upon  so  recondite  a  subject  as  the 
"  State  of  Learning  from  the  Fall  of  Rome  to  the  Fall  of 
Constantinople."  In  June,  1851,  a  San  Francisco  firm 


198  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

advertised  the  receipt  by  the  latest  steamer  of  ten  thou- 
sand new  books,  including  the  complete  works  of  Dick- 
ens and  Washington  Irving.  In  November,  1851,  a 
literary  society  called  The  California  Institute  was  or- 
ganized in  San  Francisco,  and  in  April,  1856,  some  one 
entertained  a  hall  full  of  people  by  giving  an  account 
of  a  lecture  which  Cardinal  Wiseman  had  delivered  in 
London  upon  the  Perception  of  Natural  Beauty  by  the 
Ancients  and  Moderns. 

Before  the  close  of  1856  numerous  boarding-schools 
had  been  established,  such  as  the  Alameda  Collegiate 
Institute  for  Young  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  the  Stockton 
Female  Seminary,  the  Female  Institute  at  Santa  Clara, 
the  Collegiate  Institute  at  Benicia,  the  Academy  of 
Notre  Dame  at  San  Jos^. 

The  *•  legitimate  drama,"  and  even  Shakspere,  flour- 
ished in  California.  In  the  Summer  of  1850  Charles  R. 
Thome  was  playing  at  Sacramento,  and  in  the  Autumn 
"Richard  III  "and  "Macbeth"  were  on  the  boards  there. 
In  the  Fall  of  1851  two  theatres  were  open  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, "Othello"  being  the  play  at  one,  "Ernest  Maltra- 
vers"at  the  other.  In  1852  "The  Hunchback"  was  per- 
formed in  the  same  city  with  Miss  Baker,  the  once-famous 
Philadelphia  actress,  in  the  leading  part.  There  was  no 
exaggeration  in  the  remark  made  by  the  "  Sacramento 
Transcript"  in  May,  1850:  "Nowhere  have  we  seen 
more  critical  theatrical  audiences  than  those  which 
meet  nightly  in  Sacramento.  .  .  .  Every  mind  is  wide 
awake,  and  the  discriminating  eye  of  an  impartial  public 
easily  selects  pure  worth  from  its  counterfeit." 

An  amusing  incident,  which  would  have  dehghted 
Charles  Lamb,  and  which  shows  the  youthfulness,  the 
humor,  and,  equally,  the  decorum  of  the  California  audi- 
ence, is  thus  related  by  an  eye-witness:  "One  night 
at  the  theatre  a  countryman  from  Pike,  sitting  in  the 
'orchestra'  near  the  stage,  and  becoming  uncomfortably 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     199 

warm,  took  off  his  coat.  Thereupon  the  gallery-gods 
roared  and  hissed,  — stopping  the  play  until  the  garment 
should  be  resumed.  Some  one  touched  the  man  on  the 
shoulder  and  explained  the  situation.  The  hydra  watched 
and  waited.  Shirt-sleeves  appeared  to  be  refractory,  and 
a  terrific  roar  came  from  the  hydra.  Shirt-sleeves,  quail- 
ing at  the  sound,  and  at  the  angry  looks  and  gestures  of 
those  who  sat  near  him,  started  up  with  an  air  of  coerced 
innocence,  and  resumed  his  toga  virilis.  The  yell  of 
triumph  that  arose  from  the  'gods'  in  their  joyful  sense 
of  victory  was  beyond  the  description  of  tongue  or 
pen."i 

It  was  remarked  at  an  early  date  that  nothing  really 
satisfied  the  Pioneers  unless  it  was  the  best  of  its  kind 
that  could  be  obtained,  whether  that  kind  were  good  or 
bad.  Thus  San  Francisco,  as  many  travellers  observed, 
had  the  prettiest  courtesans,  the  truest  guns  and  pistols, 
the  purest  cigars  and  the  finest  wines  and  brandies  to  be 
found  in  the  United  States.  The  neatness  and  good  style 
which  marked  the  best  hotels  and  restaurants  prove  the 
natural  refinement  of  the  people.  Bret  Harte  has  spoken 
of  the  old  family  silver  which  figured  at  a  certain  coffee- 
house in  San  Francisco;  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bushnell, 
who,  being  a  minister,  may  perhaps  be  cited  as  an  ex- 
pert on  this  subject,  was  impressed  by  the  good  food 
and  the  excellent  service  which  the  traveller  in  California 
enjoyed: — 

"  Passing  hither  and  thither  on  the  little  steamers  to 
Marysville,  to  Stockton,  to  the  towns  north  of  the  Bay, 
where  often  the  number  of  passengers  did  not  exceed 
thirty,  we  have  seen  again  and  again  a  table  most  neatly 
set,  the  silver  bright  and  clean,  the  meals  well  prepared 
and  good,  without  any  nonsense  of  show  dishes,  the  serv- 
ants tidy,  quiet  and  respectful, — the  whole  entertain- 
ment more  rational  and  better  than  we  have  ever  seen 
1  "  Men  and  Memories  of  San  Francisco,"  by  Barry  and  Patten. 


200  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

on  Mississippi  steamboats,  or  on  those  of  the  Atlantic 
Coast."  1 

The  steamers  that  plied  up  and  down  the  Sacramento 
were  "fast,  elegant,  commodious."  In  July,  185 1,  some 
one  gave  an  aristocratic  evening  party  in  the  heart  of  the 
mountains,  fifty  miles  from  Marysville.  A  long  artificial 
bower  had  been  constructed  under  which  were  spread 
tables  ornamented  with  flowers,  and  loaded  with  deli- 
cious viands,  turkeys  at  twenty  dollars  apiece,  pigs  as 
costly,  jellies.  East  India  preserves,  and  ice  cream.  Some 
of  the  guests  came  from  a  great  distance,  ten,  twenty, 
and  even  thirty  miles.  "No  gamblers  were  present," 
said  the  local  paper  which  gave  an  account  of  the  affair, 
thus  showing  how  quickly  the  social  line  was  drawn. 

But  even  if  we  regard  the  beginnings  of  education  and 
literature  in  California  as  somewhat  meagre,  it  is  other- 
wise with  religion.  Those  who  have  looked  upon  the 
early  California  society  as  essentially  lawless  and  im- 
moral will  be  surprised  to  find  how  large  and  how  potent 
was  the  religious  element.  Churches  sprang  up  almost 
as  quickly  as  gambling  houses.  The  Baptists  have  the 
credit  of  erecting,  in  the  Summer  of  '49,  the  first  church 
building ;  but  Father  William  Taylor,  the  Methodist,  was 
a  close  second.  Father  Taylor  set  out  to  build  a  church 
with  his  own  hands.  Every  morning  he  crossed  the  Bay 
from  San  Francisco  to  San  Antonio  Creek  and  toiled 
with  his  axe  in  a  grove  of  redwoods  until  he  had  cut 
down  and  hewn  into  shape  the  needed  timber.  This  he 
transported  in  a  sloop  to  the  city,  and  then,  with  the  aid 
of  his  congregation,  constructed  the  church  which  was 
finished  in  October,  '49.  By  September,  1850,  the  fol- 
lowing congregations  had  been  formed  in  San  Francisco  : 
one  Catholic,  four  Methodist  (one  being  for  negroes), 
one  Presbyterian,  one  Congregational,  one  Baptist,  one 
Episcopal,  one  Union  Church.  Three  separate  services 

1  "  California  :  its  Characteristics  and  Prospects." 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     201 

were  held  at  the  Catholic  Church,  which  was  the  largest, 
one  in  English,  one  in  Spanish,  one  in  French.  Two 
years  later  a  Jewish  synagogue  was  established. 

In  July,  1850,  five  Episcopal  clergymen  met  at  San 
Francisco  to  create  the  diocese  of  California,  and  in  the 
following  month  Dr.  Horatio  Southgate  was  elected 
Bishop.  In  the  same  year  the  San  Francisco  Bible 
Society  was  formed,  and  the  next  year,  the  "California 
Christian  Advocate,"  a  Methodist  paper,  began  publica- 
tion. 

At  Sacramento,  in  the  Spring  of  1850,  the  Episco- 
palians, Methodists,  Baptists,  Congregationalists  and 
Presbyterians  were  holding  regular  services,  and  church 
building  had  begun.  In  July,  185 1,  a  Methodist  College 
at  San  Jos6  was  incorporated  ;  and  in  the  same  month 
the  San  Francisco  papers  have  a  long  and  enthusiastic 
account  of  a  concert  given  by  the  children  of  the  Baptist 
church  there.  "  It  was  like  an  oasis  in  the  desert  for 
weary  travellers,"  remarked  one  of  them.  A  Sacramento 
paper  speaking  of  a  school  festival  in  that  city  said  :  "  No 
bull-fight,  horse-race  or  card-table  ever  gave  so  much 
pleasure  to  the  spectators." 

A  miner,  writing  from  Stockton  on  a  Sunday  morning 
in  October,  185 1,  says,  "The  church  bell  is  tolling,  and 
gayly-dressed  ladies  are  passing  by  the  window." 

The  congregations  at  the  early  religious  meetings  were 
extremely  impressive,  being  composed  almost  wholly  of 
men,  and  of  men  young,  vigorous  and  sincere.  As  Pro- 
fessor Royce  remarks :  "  Nobody  gained  anything  by 
hypocrisy  in  California,  and  consequently  there  were 
few  hypocrites.  The  religious  coldness  of  a  larger  num- 
ber who  at  home  would  have  seemed  to  be  devout  did 
not  make  the  progress  of  the  churches  in  California  less 
sure."  And  he  speaks  of  the  impression  which  these 
early  congregations  of  men  made  upon  his  mother. 
"  She  saw  in  their  countenances  an  intensity  of  earnest- 


202  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ness  that  made  her  involuntarily  thank  God  for  making 
so  grand  a  being  as  man." 

It  has  often  been  remarked  that  in  times  of  unbelief 
and  lax  morality  there  is  always  found  a  small  element 
in  the  community  which  maintains  the  standard  of  faith 
and  conduct  with  a  strictness  wholly  alien  to  the  period. 
Such  was  the  case  in  the  Roman  Empire  just  before 
and  just  after  the  advent  of  the  Christian  religion.  So, 
in  the  English  Church,  in  its  most  idle,  most  worldly, 
most  unspiritual  days,  as  before  the  Evangelical  move- 
ment, and  again  before  the  Tractarian  movement,  there 
was  a  small  body  of  priests  and  laymen,  chiefly,  as  in 
the  Roman  Empire,  isolated  persons  living  in  the  coun- 
try, who  preserved  the  torch  of  faith,  humility  and  self- 
denial,  and  served  as  a  nucleus  for  the  new  party  which 
was  to  revive  and  reform  the  Church.  Extremes  can  be 
met  only  by  extremes.  Intense  worldliness  can  be  van- 
quished only  by  intense  unworldliness ;  unbelief  fosters 
faith  among  a  few ;  and  the  more  loose  the  habits  of  the 
majority,  the  more  severe  will  be  the  practice  of  the 
minority. 

This  was  abundantly  seen  in  California.  As  Bret  Harte 
himself  said :  "  Strangely  enough,  this  grave  materialism 
flourished  side  by  side  with  —  and  was  even  sustained 
by  —  a  narrow  religious  strictness  more  characteristic 
of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  of  a  past  century  than  the  West- 
ern Pioneers  of  the  present.  San  Francisco  was  early  a 
city  of  churches  and  church  organizations  to  which  the 
leading  men  and  merchants  belonged.  The  lax  Sundays 
of  the  dying  Spanish  race  seemed  only  to  provoke  a 
revival  of  the  rigors  of  the  Puritan  Sabbath.  With  the 
Spaniard  and  his  Sunday  afternoon  bull-fight  scarcely 
an  hour  distant,  the  San  Francisco  pulpit  thundered 
against  Sunday  picnics.  One  of  the  popular  preachers, 
declaiming  upon  the  practice  of  Sunday  dinner-giving, 
averred  that  when  he  saw  a  guest  in  his  best  Sunday 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     203 

clothes  standing  shamelessly  upon  the  doorstep  of  his 
host,  he  felt  like  seizing  him  by  the  shoulder  and  drag- 
ging him  from  that  threshold  of  perdition." 

An  example  of  this  narrow,  not  to  say  Pharisaic  point 
of  view  was  commented  upon  as  follows  by  the  "  San 
Francisco  Daily  Herald"  of  February  3,  1852  :  "Of  all 
countries  in  the  world  California  is  the  least  favorable 
to  cant  and  bigotry.  ...  It  is  not  surprising  that  a 
general  feeling  of  loathing  should  have  been  created 
by  an  article  which  recently  appeared  in  a  so-called  re- 
ligious newspaper  having  the  title  of  the  *  Christian  Ad- 
vocate,' commenting  in  terms  of  invidious  and  slanderous 
malignity  on  the  fact  of  Miss  Coad,  recently  attached  to 
the  American  Theatre,  being  engaged  to  sing  in  the  choir 
of  the  Pacific  Church." 

This  is  well  enough,  though  put  in  an  extravagant  and 
rather  boyish  way ;  but  the  writer  then  goes  on  in  the 
true  Colonel  Starbottle  manner  as  follows :  "With  the 
conductors  of  a  clerical  press  it  is  difficult  to  deal.  Un- 
der the  cloak  of  piety  they  do  not  hesitate  to  libel  and 
malign,  and  at  the  same  time  not  recognizing  the  re- 
sponsibility of  gentlemen  [Colonel  Starbottle's  phrase], 
and  being  therefore  not  fit  subjects  of  attack  in  retort, 
one  feels  almost  ashamed  in  checking  their  stupid- 
ity or  reproving  their  falsehood."  And  so  on  at  great 
length. 

Nevertheless,  the  Puritan  minority,  reinforced  by  the 
good  sense  of  a  majority  of  the  Pioneers,  very  quickly 
succeeded  in  modifying  the  free  and  easy  life  of  San 
Francisco,  and  later  of  the  mining  regions.  Gamblers  of 
the  better  sort,  and  business  men  in  general,  welcomed 
and  supported  the  churches  as  tending  to  the  peace  and 
prosperity  even  of  the  Pacific  Slope.  "  I  have  known  five 
men,"  wrote  the  Reverend  Mr.  Colton,  "who  never 
contributed  a  dollar  in  the  States  for  the  support  of  a 
clergyman,  subscribe  here  five  hundred  dollars  each  per 


204  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

annum,  merely  to  encourage,  as  they  termed  it,  'a  good 
sort  of  a  thing  in  a  community.'  "  ^ 

The  steps  taken  in  1850  and  1851  to  prohibit  or  re- 
strain gambling  have  already  been  noticed.  In  August, 
1850,  the  Grand  Jury  condemned  bull-baiting  and  prize- 
fighting at  any  time,  and  theatrical  and  like  exhibitions 
on  Sunday.  In  September  of  the  same  year,  the  "  Sac- 
ramento Transcript"  said,  "The  bull-fights  we  have 
had  in  this  city  have  been  barbarous  and  disgusting  in 
the  extreme,  and  their  toleration  on  any  occasion  is  dis- 
graceful." 

This  sentiment  prevailed,  and  shortly  afterward  bull- 
fights in  Sacramento  were  forbidden  by  city  ordinance. 
A  year  later  gambling  houses  and  theatres,  both  in  San 
Francisco  and  Sacramento,  were  closed  on  Sunday,  and 
we  find  the  "Alta  California"  remarking  on  a  Monday 
morning  in  May,  "  Yesterday  all  was  like  Sunday  in 
the  East,  as  quiet  as  the  fury  of  the  winds  would  allow. 
Two  years  ago  under  similar  circumstances  many  hun- 
dreds of  men  would  have  forgotten  the  day,  and  the 
busy  hum  of  business  would  have  rung  throughout  the 
land." 

In  the  mines  Sunday,  at  first,  was  almost  wholly  dis- 
regarded j  but  abstention  from  work  on  that  day  was 
soon  found  to  be  a  physical  necessity.  Thus  an  English 
miner  wrote  home,  "  We  have  all  of  us  given  over  work- 
ing on  Sundays,  as  we  found  the  toil  on  six  successive 
days  quite  hard  enough." 

Men  who  stood  by  their  principles  in  California  never 
lost  anything  by  that  course.  A  merchant  from  Salem, 
Massachusetts,  came  up  the  Sacramento  River  with  a 
cargo  of  goods  in  December,  1848.  Early  on  the  morning 
after  his  arrival  three  men  with  three  mules  appeared 
on  the  bank  of  the  river  to  purchase  supplies  for  the 
mines.    It  being  Sunday,  however,  the  man  from  Salem 

1  See  also  supra^^.  169. 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     205 

refused  to  do  business  on  that  day,  but,  after  the  New 
England  fashion,  accommodated  his  intending  customers 
with  a  little  good  advice.  This  they  resented  in  a  really 
violent  manner,  and  went  off  in  a  rage,  swearing  that 
they  would  never  trade  with  such  a  Puritanical  hypocrite. 
Yet  they  came  back  the  next  morning,  purchased  goods 
then,  and  on  various  later  occasions,  and  finally  made 
the  Sabbath-keeper  their  banker,  depositing  in  his  safe 
many  thousands  of  dollars. 

Even  a  matter  so  unpopular  as  that  of  temperance 
reform  was  not  neglected  by  the  religious  people.  A  tem- 
perance society  was  organized  at  Sacramento  in  June, 
1850,  addresses  were  made  in  the  Methodist  chapel,  and 
numerous  persons,  including  some  city  officials,  signed  a 
total  abstinence  pledge.  "  The  subject  is  an  old  one," 
the  "  Sacramento  Transcript "  nafvely  remarked ;  **but 
this  is  a  new  country.  Temperance  is  rather  a  new  idea 
here,  and  its  introduction  among  us  seems  almost  like  a 
novel  movement."  In  the  same  month  and  year  a  simi- 
lar society  was  formed  in  San  Francisco,  and  arrange- 
ments were  made  to  celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July  "  on 
temperance  principles." 

The  most  genuine,  the  most  thorough-going  kind  of 
religion  found  in  California  was  that  of  the  Western 
Pioneers,  who  were  mainly  Methodists  and  Baptists  of 
a  rude,  primitive  sort.  Nothing  could  be  further  from 
Bret  Harte's  manner  of  thinking,  and  yet  he  has  de- 
picted the  type  with  his  usual  insight,  though  perhaps 
not  quite  with  his  usual  sympathy.  Joshua  Rylands,  in 
Mr.  yack  Hamlin  s  Mediation  (a  story  already  men- 
tioned), is  one  example  of  it,  and  Madison  Wayne,  in  The 
Bell-Ringer  of  AngeTsy  is  another.  Of  all  Bret  Harte*s 
stories  this  is  the  most  tragic,  a  terrible  fate  overtaking 
every  one  of  the  four  characters  who  figure  in  it.  Madi- 
son Wayne  is  a  Calvinistic  Puritan, — a  New  Englander 
such  as  has  not  been  seen  in  New  England  for  a  hun- 


2o6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

dred  years,  but  only  in  that  Far  West  to  which  New 
England  men  penetrated,  and  in  which  New  England 
ideas  and  beliefs,  protected  by  the  isolation  of  prairie 
and  forest,  survived  the  scientific  and  religious  changes 
of  two  centuries. 

In  A  Night  at  Hays'  we  have  the  same  character  under 
a  more  morose  aspect.  "  Always  a  severe  Presbyterian 
and  an  uncompromising  deacon,  he  grew  more  rigid,  sec- 
tarian, and  narrow  day  by  day.  ...  A  grim  landlord,  hard 
creditor,  close-fisted  patron,  and  a  smileless  neighbor 
who  neither  gambled  nor  drank,  old  Hays,  as  he  was 
called,  while  yet  scarce  fifty,  had  few  acquaintances  and 
fewer  friends." 

In  An  Apostle  of  the  Tules  Bret  Harte  has  described 
a  camp-meeting  of  Calvinistic  families  whose  gloom  was 
heightened  by  malaria  contracted  from  the  Stockton 
marshes.  "One  might  have  smiled  at  the  idea  of  the 
vendetta-following  Ferguses  praying  for  *  justification  by 
faith ' ;  but  the  actual  spectacle  of  old  Simon  Fergus, 
whose  shotgun  was  still  in  his  wagon,  offering  up  that 
appeal  with  streaming  eyes  and  agonized  features,  was 
painful  beyond  a  doubt." 

As  for  Bret  Harte's  own  religious  views,  it  can 
scarcely  be  said  that  he  had  any.  He  was  indeed 
brought  up  with  some  strictness  as  an  Episcopalian,  his 
mother  being  of  that  faith  ;  and  when  he  returned  from 
her  funeral  with  his  sisters,  he  seemed  deeply  moved  by 
the  beauty  of  the  Episcopal  burial  service,  and  expressed 
the  hope  that  it  would  be  read  at  his  own  grave.  His 
friends  in  this  country  remember  that  he  declined  to  take 
part  in  certain  amusements  on  Sunday,  remarking  that, 
though  he  saw  no  harm  in  them,  he  could  not  shake  off 
the  more  strict  notions  of  Sunday  observance  in  which 
he  had  been  trained  as  a  child.  Through  life  he  had  a 
horror  of  gambling,  and  always  refused  even  to  play 
cards  for  money.    In  San  Francisco  he  used  to  attend 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     207 

the  church  where  his  friend  Starr  King  preached,  and 
in  New  York  he  was  often  present  at  another  Unitarian 
church,  that  of  the  Reverend  O.  B.  Frothingham ;  but 
this  seems  to  have  been  the  extent  of  his  church-going, 
and  of  his  connection,  external  or  internal,  with  any 
form  of  Christianity. 

Nor,  so  far  as  one  can  judge  from  his  writings,  and 
from  such  of  his  letters  as  have  been  published,  was  he 
one  who  thought  much  or  cared  much  about  those  mys- 
teries of  human  existence  with  which  religion  is  sup- 
posed to  deal.  Even  as  a  child,  Bret  Harte  had  no  sense 
of  sin,  —  no  sense  of  that  hideous  discrepancy  between 
character  and  ideals,  between  conduct  and  duty,  which 
ought  to  oppress  all  men,  and  which,  at  some  period  of 
their  lives,  does  oppress  most  men.  Everybody,  from  the 
Digger  Indian  up,  has  a  standard  of  right  and  wrong ; 
everybody  is  aware  that  he  continually  falls  below  that 
standard;  and  from  these  two  facts  of  consciousness 
arise  the  sense  of  sin,  remorse,  repentance,  and  the  in- 
stinct of  expiation.  Perhaps  this  is  religion,  or  the  funda- 
mental feeling  upon  which  religion  is  based. 

To  be  deficient  in  this  feeling  is  a  great  defect  in  any 
man,  most  of  all  in  a  man  of  powerful  intellect.  In  a 
letter,  Bret  Harte,  speaking  of  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  says 
that  he  read  it  as  a  boy,  but  that  the  book  made  no  im- 
pression upon  him,  except  that  the  characters  seemed  so 
ridiculous  that  he  could  not  help  laughing  at  them.  This 
statement  gives  a  rather  painful  shock  even  to  the  irre- 
ligious reader.  The  truth  is,  Bret  Harte  had  the  moral 
indifference,  the  spiritual  serenity  of  a  Pagan,  and,  as  a 
necessary  concomitant,  that  superficial  conception  of 
human  life  and  destiny  which  belongs  to  Paganism. 

Benjamin  Jowett,  speaking  of  the  Mediaeval  hymns, 
said,  "  We  seem  to  catch  from  them  echoes  of  deeper 
feelings  than  we  are  capable  of."  That  Mediaeval,  Gothic 
depth  of  feeling,  that  consciousness  of  sin  and  mystery 


2o8  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

hanging  over  and  enveloping  man's  career  on  earth,  sur- 
vives even  in  some  modern  writers,  as  in  Hawthorne, 
George  Eliot,  Tolstoi,  and,  by  a  kind  of  negation,  in 
Thomas  Hardy ;  and  it  gives  to  their  stories  a  sombre 
and  imposing  background  which  is  lacking  in  the  tales 
of  Bret  Harte  and  of  Kipling. 

It  is  owing  partly  to  this  defect,  and  partly  to  the 
unfortunate  character  of  most  of  the  ministers  who 
reached  California  before  i860,  that  the  clerical  element 
fares  but  ill  in  Bret  Harte's  stories.^  His  most  frequent 
type  is  the  smooth,  oily,  self-seeking  hypocrite.  Such  is 
the  Reverend  Joshua  McSnagley  whose  little  affair  with 
Deacon  Parnell's  "darter "is  sarcastically  mentioned  in 
Roger  Catron  s  Friend^  and  who  comes  to  a  violent  end 
in  M'liss.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Staples  who  meanly  perse- 
cutes the  Youngest  Prospector  in  Calaveras,  is  McSnag- 
ley under  another  name  ;  and  the  same  type  briefly  ap- 
pears again  in  the  Reverend  Mr.  Peasley,  who  greets  the 
New  Assistant  at  Pine  Clearing  School  "  with  a  chilling 
Christian  smile " ;  in  the  Reverend  Mr.  Belcher,  who 
attempts  the  reform  of  Johnnyboy;  and  still  again  in 
Parson  Greenwood,  who  profits  by  the  Convalescence 
of  Jack  Hamlin  to  learn  the  mysteries  of  poker,  and  of 
whom  the  gambler  said  that,  when  he  had  successfully 
"bluffed"  his  fellow-players,  "there  was  a  smile  of 
humble  self-righteousness  on  his  face  that  was  worth 
double  the  money." 

A  much  less  conventional  and  more  interesting  type 

1  It  must  be  admitted  that  the  ministers  were  placed  in  a  difficult  situ- 
ation, being  obliged  to  cope  with  the  hardy,  humorous  materialism  of 
Pioneer  life.   The  following  dialogue  is  an  authentic  illustration  :  — 

"  Mr.  Small,  do  not  you  believe  in  the  overruling  Providence  of  God } " 

"Which  God?" 

"  There  is  but  one  God." 

"  I  don't  see  it,  Parson.  On  this  yere  Pacific  Coast  gods  is  numerous 
—  Chinee  gods,  Mormon  gods,  Injin  gods,  Christian  gods,  an^  the  Bank 
0'  Californy  /  "  —  «•  The  Californians,"  by  W.  M.  Fisher. 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     209 

is  that  of  the  jovial,  loud-voiced  hypocrite  who  conceals 
a  cold  heart  and  a  selfish  nature  with  an  affectation  of 
frankness  and  geniality.  Such  are  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Windibrook  in  A  Belle  of  Canada  Cityy  and  Father 
Wynn,  described  in  The  Carquinez  Woods.  It  was  Father 
Wynn  who  thus  addressed  the  newly-converted  ex- 
pressman, to  the  great  disgust  and  embarrassment  of 
that  youth :  "  *  Good-by,  good-by,  Charley,  my  boy,  and 
keep  in  the  right  path ;  not  up  or  down,  or  round  the 
gulch,  you  know,  ha,  ha !  but  straight  across  lots  to  the 
shining  gate.' 

"  He  had  raised  his  voice  under  the  stimulus  of  a  few 
admiring  spectators,  and  backed  his  convert  playfully 
against  the  wall.  *  You  see  !  We  're  goin*  in  to  win,  you 
bet.  Good-by !  I  'd  ask  you  to  step  in  and  have  a  chat, 
but  I  've  got  my  work  to  do,  and  so  have  you.  The  gos- 
pel must  n't  keep  us  from  that,  must  it,  Charley  ?  Ha, 
ha!'" 

James  Seabright,  the  amphibious  minister  who  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  Episode  of  West  Woodlands,  is  rather 
good  than  bad,  and  so  is  Stephen  Masterton,  the  igno- 
rant, fanatical,  but  conscientious  Pike  County  revivalist 
who,  yielding  to  the  combined  charms  of  a  pretty  Span- 
ish girl  and  the  Catholic  Church,  becomes  a  Convert  of 
the  Mission.^ 

Of  another  Protestant  minister,  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Daws,  it  is  briefly  mentioned  in  The  Iliad  of  Sandy  Bar 
that  "with  quiet  fearlessness"  he  endeavored  to  recon- 

1  A  traveller  passing  through  Dolores  in  Mexico  was  the  witness  of  a 
marriage  like  that  of  Stephen  Masterton  :  "  Whilst  stopping  here  I  saw 
a  smart-looking  Yankee  and  a  Spanish  girl  married  by  the  priest,  whose 
words  were  interpreted  to  the  bridegroom  as  the  ceremony  proceeded. 
The  lady  was  of  rather  dark  complexion  but  extremely  pretty ;  and  al- 
though she  knew  scarcely  a  word  of  English,  and  the  bridegroom  knew 
still  less  of  Spanish,  it  was  evident  from  the  eloquence  of  the  glances 
which  passed  between  them,  that  they  were  at  no  loss  to  make  themselves 
understood."  —  "  Personal  Adventures  in  Upper  and  Lower  California," 
W^.  R.  Ryan. 


210  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

die  those  bitter  enemies,  York  and  Scott.  "When  he 
had  concluded,  Scott  looked  at  him,  not  unkindly,  over 
the  glasses  of  his  bar,  and  said,  less  irreverently  than 
the  words  might  convey,  *  Young  man,  I  rather  like 
your  style ;  but  when  you  know  York  and  me  as  well  as 
you  do  God  Almighty,  it  '11  be  time  enough  to  talk/  " 

But  of  all  Bret  Harte's  Protestant  ministers  the  only 
one  who  figures  in  the  least  as  a  hero  is  Gideon  Deane, 
the  Apostle  of  the  Tules.  Gideon  Deane,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, first  ventures  his  own  life  in  an  effort  to 
save  that  of  a  gambler  about  to  be  lynched,  and  then, 
making  perhaps  a  still  greater  sacrifice,  declines  the 
church  and  the  parsonage  and  the  fifteen  hundred  dol- 
lars a  year  offered  to  him  by  Jack  Hamlin  and  his 
friends,  and  returning  to  the  lonely  farmhouse  and  the 
poverty-stricken,  unattractive  widow  Hiler,  becomes  her 
husband,  and  a  father  to  her  children. 

The  story  is  not  altogether  satisfactory,  for  Gideon 
Deane  is  in  love  with  a  young  girl  who  loves  him,  and  it 
is  not  perfectly  clear  why  her  happiness,  as  well  as  that 
of  the  preacher  himself,  should  be  sacrificed  to  the  do- 
mestic necessities  of  the  widow  and  her  children.  Nor  is 
the  hero  himself  made  quite  so  real  as  are  Bret  Harte's 
characters  in  general.  We  admire  and  respect  him,  but 
he  does  not  excite  our  enthusiasm,  and  this  is  prob- 
ably because  the  author  failed  to  get  that  imaginative, 
sympathetic  grasp  of  his  nature  which,  as  a  rule,  makes 
Bret  Harte's  personages  seem  like  living  men  and 
women. 

There  is  a  rather  striking  resemblance  in  the  matter 
of  ministers  between  Bret  Harte  and  Rhoda  Broughton. 
Both  have  the  same  instinctive  antipathy  to  a  parson 
that  boys  have  to  a  policeman ;  both  have  the  same  gen- 
eral notion  that  ministers  are  mainly  canting  hypocrites ; 
both,  being  struck  apparently  by  the  idea  of  doing  full 
justice  to  the  cloth,  have  set  themselves  to  describe  one 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION     211 

really  good  and  even  heroic  minister,  and  in  each  case 
the  type  evolved  is  the  same,  and  not  convincing.  Gideon 
Deane  has  the  slender  physique,  the  humility,  the  cour- 
age, the  self-sacrificing  spirit,  the  melancholy  tempera- 
ment of  the  Reverend  James  Stanley,  and,  it  may  be 
added,  the  same  unreality,  the  same  inability  to  stamp 
his  image  upon  the  mind  of  the  reader. 

Bret  Harte's  treatment  of  the  Spanish  priest  in  Cali- 
fornia is  very  different.  He  pokes  a  little  fun  at  his 
Reverence,  now  and  then.  He  shows  us  Father  Felipe 
entering  the  estudio  of  Don  Jose  Sepulvida  "with  that 
air  of  furtive  and  minute  inspection  common  to  his 
order  " ;  and  in  the  interview  with  Colonel  Parker,  Don 
Josh's  lawyer,  there  is  a  beautiful  description  of  what 
might  be  called  an  ecclesiastical  wink.  "The  Padre  and 
Colonel  Parker  gazed  long  and  gravely  into  each  other's 
eyes.  It  may  have  been  an  innocent  touch  of  the  sun- 
light through  the  window,  but  a  faint  gleam  seemed  to 
steal  into  the  pupil  of  the  affable  lawyer  at  the  same  mo- 
ment that,  probably  from  the  like  cause,  there  was  a 
slight  nervous  contraction  of  the  left  eyelid  of  the  pious 
father." 

Father  Sobriente,  again,  "was  a  polished,  cultivated 
man ;  yet  in  the  characteristic,  material  criticism  of 
youth,  I  am  afraid  that  Clarence  chiefly  identified  him 
as  a  priest  with  large  hands  whose  soft  palms  seemed 
to  be  cushioned  with  kindness,  and  whose  equally  large 
feet,  encased  in  extraordinary  shapeless  shoes  of  undyed 
leather,  seemed  to  tread  down  noiselessly  —  rather  than 
to  ostentatiously  crush — the  obstacles  that  beset  the 
path  of  the  young  student.  ...  In  the  midnight  silence 
of  the  dormitory,  he  was  often  conscious  of  the  soft, 
browsing  tread  and  snuffy,  muffled  breathing  of  his  ele- 
phantine-footed mentor." 

But  the  simplicity,  the  unaffected  piety,  and  the  sweet 
disposition  of  the  Spanish  priest  are  clearly  shown  in 


212  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Bret  Harte's  stories.  The  ecclesiastic  with  whom  he  has 
made  us  best  acquainted  is  Padre  Esteban  of  the  Mission 
of  Todos  Santos,  that  remote  and  dreamy  port  in  which 
the  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior  ended.  And  yet  even  there 
the  good  priest  had  learned  how  to  deal  with  the  human 
heart,  as  appeared  when  he  became  the  confidant  of  the 
unfortunate  Hurlstone. 

"*  A  woman/ said  the  priest  softly.  *So!  We  will  sit 
down,  my  son/  He  lifted  his  hand  with  a  soothing  ges- 
ture —  the  movement  of  a  physician  who  has  just  arrived 
at  an  easy  diagnosis  of  certain  uneasy  symptoms.  There 
was  also  a  slight  suggestion  of  an  habitual  toleration,  as 
if  even  the  seclusion  of  Todos  Santos  had  not  been  en- 
tirely free  from  the  invasion  of  the  primal  passion." 

The  Reader  need  not  be  reminded  how  often  Bret 
Harte  speaks  of  Junipero  Serra,  the  Franciscan  Friar  who 
founded  the  Spanish  Missions  in  California.  Father 
Junip6ro  was  a  typical  Spaniard  of  the  religious  sort, 
austere,  ascetic,  —  a  Commissioner  of  the  Inquisition. 
He  ate  little,  avoiding  all  meat  and  wine.  He  scourged 
himself  in  the  pulpit  with  a  chain,  after  the  manner  of 
St.  Francis,  and  he  was  accustomed,  while  reciting  the 
confession,  to  hold  aloft  the  Crucifix  in  his  left  hand, 
and  to  strike  his  naked  breast  with  a  heavy  stone  held 
in  his  right  hand.  To  this  self-punishment,  indeed,  was 
attributed  the  disease  of  the  lungs  which  ultimately 
caused  his  death. 

Each  Mission  had  its  garrison,  for  the  intention  was 
to  overcome  the  natives  by  arms,  if  they  should  offer 
resistance  to  Holy  Church.  But  the  California  Indians 
were  a  mild,  inoffensive  people,  lacking  the  character 
and  courage  of  the  Indians  who  inhabited  the  Plains, 
and  they  quickly  succumbed  to  that  combination  of  spir- 
itual authority  and  military  force  which  the  Padres 
wielded.  At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  there  were 
eighteen  Missions  in  California,  with  forty  Padres,  and  a 


Copyngut,  Detroit  riiotojirupiii 
THE   BELLS,   SAN   GABRIEL   MISSION 


LITERATURE,  JOURNALISM,  RELIGION    213 

neophyte  Indian  population  of  about  thirteen  thousand. 
But  all  this  melted  away  when  the  Missions  were  secu- 
larized. In  1822  Mexico  became  independent  of  Spain, 
and  thenceforth  California  was  an  outlying,  neglected 
Mexican  province.  From  that  time  the  office-holding 
class  of  Mexicans  were  intriguing  to  get  possession  of 
the  Mission  lands,  flocks  and  herds;  and  in  1833  they 
succeeded.  The  Missions  were  broken  up,  the  Friars 
were  deprived  of  all  support ;  and  many  of  the  Christian 
Indians  were  reduced  to  a  cruel  slavery  in  which  their 
labor  was  recompensed  chiefly  by  intoxicating  liquors. 
Little  better  was  the  fate  of  the  others.  Released  from 
the  strict  discipline  in  which  they  had  been  held  by  the 
priests,  they  scattered  in  all  directions,  and  quickly  sank 
into  a  state  of  barbarism  worse  than  their  original  state. 
But  the  Missions  were  not  absolutely  deserted.  In  some 
cases  a  small  monastic  brotherhood  still  inhabited  the 
buildings  once  thronged  by  soldiers  and  neophytes ;  and 
these  men  were  of  great  service.  They  ministered  to  the 
spiritual  needs  of  Spanish  and  Mexicans ;  they  instructed 
the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  ranch-owners ;  they  kept  alive 
religion,  and  to  some  extent  learning  in  the  community ; 
and,  finally,  —  if  one  may  say  so  without  irreverence,  — 
they  contributed  that  Mediaeval  element  which,  other- 
wise, would  have  been  the  one  thing  lacking  to  complete 
the  picturesque  contrasts  of  Pioneer  life.  The  Missions 
had  been  the  last  expression  of  the  instinct  of  conquest 
upon  the  part  of  a  decaying  nation ;  and  the  Angelus  that 
nightly  rang  from  some  fast-crumbling  tower  sounded 
the  knell  of  Spanish  rule  in  America. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

BRET   HARTE's   DEPARTURE   FROM   CALIFORNIA 

Bret  Harte,  as  we  have  seen,  was,  for  a  few  years  at 
least,  well  placed  in  San  Francisco,  but,  as  time  went  on, 
he  had  many  causes  of  unhappiness.  There  were  heavy 
demands  upon  his  purse  from  persons  not  of  his  imme- 
diate family,  which  he  was  too  generous  to  refuse,  al- 
though they  distressed,  harassed  and  discouraged  him. 
His  own  constitutional  improvidence  added  to  the  diffi- 
culties thus  created. 

Mr.  Noah  Brooks,  who  knew  Bret  Harte  well,  has  very 
truly  described  this  aspect  of  his  life  :  "  It  would  be 
grossly  unjust  to  say  that  Harte  was  a  species  of  Harold 
Skimpole,  deliberately  making  debts  that  he  did  not  in- 
tend to  pay.  He  sincerely  intended  and  expected  to  meet 
every  financial  obligation  that  he  contracted.  But  he  was 
utterly  destitute  of  what  is  sometimes  called  the  money 
sense.  He  could  not  drive  a  bargain,  and  he  was  an  easy 
mark  for  any  man  who  could.  Consequently  he  was  con- 
tinually involved  in  troubles  that  he  might  have  escaped 
with  a  little  more  financial  shrewdness." 

The  theory,  thus  stated  by  Mr.  Brooks,  is  supported 
by  an  unsolicited  letter,  now  first  published,  but  written 
shortly  after  Mr.  Harte' s  death; — 

.  .  .  After  going  abroad,  Mr.  Harte  from  time  to  time 
— whenever  able  to  do  so  —  sent  through  the  business 
house  of  my  husband  and  son  money  in  payment  of  bills 
he  was  yet  owing,  —  and  this  when  three  thousand  miles 
removed  from  the  pressure  of  payment,  —  which  too 
many  would  have  left  unpaid.  Life  was  often  hard  for 


DEPARTURE  FROM  CALIFORNIA  215 

him,  yet  he  met  it  uncomplainingly,  unflinchingly  and 
bravely.  A  kindly,  sweet  soul,  one  without  gall,  bitter- 
ness or  envy,  has  gone  beyond  the  reach  of  our  finite 
voices,  leaving  the  world  to  us  who  knew  and  loved  him 
darker  and  poorer  in  his  absence. 

Mrs.  Charles  Watrous 
May  26, 1902.  Hague,  N.  Y. 

Moreover,  there  was  much  friction  between  Bret  Harte 
and  the  new  publisher  of  the  "  Overland,"  who  had  suc- 
ceeded Mr.  Roman ;  and  finally,  the  moral  and  intellectual 
atmosphere  of  San  Francisco  was  uncongenial  to  him. 
The  early,  generous,  reckless  days  of  California  had 
passed,  and  now,  especially  in  San  Francisco,  a  com- 
mercial type  of  man  was  coming  to  the  front.  In  The 
Argonauts  of  North  Liberty^  Bret  Harte  has  depicted 
"  Ezekiel  Corwin,  .  .  .  a  shrewd,  practical,  self-sufficient 
and  self-asserting  unit  of  the  more  cautious  later  Cali- 
fornia emigration." 

More  than  once  Bret  Harte  had  run  counter  to  Cali- 
fornia sentiment.  As  we  have  seen  already,  he  was  dis- 
missed from  his  place  as  assistant  Editor  of  a  country 
newspaper  because  he  had  chivalrously  espoused  the  cause 
of  the  friendless  Indian.  His  first  contribution  to  the 
"Overland,"  as  also  we  have  seen,  was  that  beautiful 
poem  in  which  he  laments  the  shortcomings  of  the  city. 
Had  the  same  thing  been  said  in  prose,  the  business 
community  would  certainly  have  resented  it. 

I  know  thy  cunning  and  thy  greed, 
Thy  hard,  high  lust,  and  wilful  deed, 

And  all  thy  Glory  loves  to  tell 
Of  specious  gifts  material. 

Drop  down,  O  Fleecy  Fog,  and  hide 
Her  sceptic  sneer  and  all  her  pride  ! 

And  yet,  with  characteristic  optimism,  the  poet  looks 
forward  to  a  time  — 


2i6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

When  Art  shall  raise  and  Culture  lift 
The  sensual  joys  and  meaner  thrift. 

Later,  but  in  the  same  year,  Bret  Harte  incurred  the 
enmity  of  some  leading  men  in  San  Francisco  by  his 
gentle  ridicule  of  their  attempts  to  explain  away  —  for 
the  sake  of  Eastern  capitalists  —  the  destructive  earth- 
quake which  shook  the  city  in  October,  1868.  An  old 
Californian  thus  relates  the  story :  "  As  soon  as  the 
first  panic  at  this  disturbance  had  subsided,  and  while 
lesser  shocks  were  still  shaking  the  earth,  some  of  the 
leading  business  men  of  San  Francisco  organized  them- 
selves into  a  sort  of  vigilance  committee,  and  visited  all 
the  newspaper  offices.  They  strictly  enjoined  that  the 
story  of  the  earthquake  be  treated  with  conservatism 
and  understatement ;  —  it  would  injure  California  if  East- 
ern people  were  frightened  away  by  exaggerated  reports 
oi  el  temblor ;  and  a  similar  censorship  was  exercised  over 
the  press  despatches  sent  out  from  San  Francisco  at  that 
time. 

"This  greatly  amused  Bret  Harte,  and  in  his  'Etc' 
in  the  November  number  of  the  *  Overland,'  he  treated 
the  topic  jocularly,  saying  that,  according  to  the  daily 
papers,  the  earthquake  would  have  suffered  serious 
damage  if  the  people  had  only  known  it  was  coming. 
Harte's  pleasantry  excited  the  wrath  of  some  of  the  solid 
men  of  San  Francisco,  and  when,  not  long  after  that,  it 
was  proposed  to  establish  a  chair  of  recent  literature  in 
the  University  of  California  and  invite  Bret  Harte  to 
occupy  it,  one  of  the  board  of  regents,  whose  word  was  a 
power  in  the  land,  temporarily  defeated  the  scheme  by 
swearing  roundly  that  a  man  who  had  derided  the  dis- 
pute between  the  earthquake  and  the  newspapers  should 
never  have  his  support  for  a  professorship.  Subsequently, 
however,  this  difficulty  was  overcome,  and  Harte  received 
his  appointment." 

San  Francisco  was  then  a  crude,  commercial,  restless 


DEPARTURE  FROM  CALIFORNIA  217 

town,  caring  little  for  art  or  literature,  religious  in  a  nar- 
row way,  confident  of  its  own  ideals,  and  as  content  with 
the  stage  through  which  it  was  passing  as  if  human  his- 
tory had  known,  and  human  imagination  could  conceive, 
nothing  higher  or  better. 

In  A  yack  and  yUl  of  the  Sierras  Bret  Harte  makes 
the  youthful  hero  reproach  himself  by  saying,  or  rather 
thinking,  "  He  had  forgotten  them  for  those  lazy,  snob- 
bish, purse-proud  San  Franciscans  —  for  Bray  had  the 
miner's  supreme  contempt  for  the  moneyed  trading 
classes." 

Bret  Harte,  whose  view  of  life  was  mainly  derived  from 
eighteenth-century  literature,  shared  that  contempt,  and 
expressed  his  own  feeling,  no  doubt,  in  the  sentiment 
which  he  attributes  to  the  two  girls  in  Devil's  Ford. 
**  It  seemed  to  them  that  the  five  millionaires  of  Devil's 
Ford,  in  their  radical  simplicity  and  thoroughness,  were 
perhaps  nearer  the  type  of  true  gentlemanhood  than 
the  citizens  who  imitated  a  civilization  which  they  were 
unable  yet  to  reach." 

No  wonder,  then,  that,  with  tempting  offers  from  the 
East,  harassed  with  debts,  disputes,  cares  and  anxieties, 
disgusted  with  the  atmosphere  in  which  he  was  living, 
—  no  wonder  Bret  Harte  felt  that  the  hour  for  his  de- 
parture had  struck.  Had  he  remained  longer,  his  art 
would  probably  have  suffered.  A  nature  so  impression- 
able as  Bret  Harte's,  so  responsive,  would  insensibly 
have  been  affected  by  his  surroundings,  and  the  more  so 
because  he  had  in  himself  no  strong,  intellectual  basis. 
His  life  was  ruled  by  taste,  rather  than  by  conviction ; 
and  taste  is  a  harder  matter  than  conviction  to  preserve 
unimpaired.  Of  all  the  criticisms  passed  upon  Bret  Harte 
there  has  been  nothing  more  true  than  Madame  Van  de 
Velde's  observations  upon  this  point :  "  It  was  decidedly 
fortunate  that  he  left  California  when  he  did,  never  to 
return  to  it ;  for  his  quick  instinctive  perceptions  would 


2i8  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

have  assimilated  the  new  order  of  things  to  the  detri- 
ment of  his  talent.  As  it  was,  his  singularly  retentive 
memory  remained  unbiassed  by  the  transformation  of 
the  centres  whence  he  drew  his  inspiration.  California 
remained  to  him  the  Mecca  of  the  Argonauts." 

Bret  Harte  left  many  warm  friends  in  California,  and 
they  were  much  hurt,  in  some  cases  much  angered, 
because  they  never  had  a  word  from  him  afterward. 
And  yet  it  is  extremely  doubtful  if  he  expected  any 
such  result.  Certainly  it  was  not  intended.  Kind  and 
friendly  feelings  may  still  exist,  although  they  are  not 
expressed  in  letters.  Bret  Harte  was  indolent  and  pro- 
crastinating about  everything  except  the  real  business  of 
his  life,  and  into  that  all  his  energy  was  poured.  And 
there  was  another  reason  for  the  failure  to  communi- 
cate with  his  old  friends,  which  has  probably  occurred 
to  the  Reader,  and  which  is  suggested  in  a  private  let- 
ter from  one  of  the  very  persons  who  were  aggrieved  by 
his  silence.  *'  He  went  away  with  a  sore  heart.  He  had 
cares,  difficulties,  hurts  here,  many,  and  they  may  have 
embittered  him  against  all  thoughts  of  the  past." 

This,  no  doubt,  is  true.  The  California  chapter  in  Bret 
Harte' s  life  was  closed,  and  it  would  have  been  painful 
for  him  to  reopen  it  even  by  the  writing  of  a  letter.  To 
say  this,  however,  is  not  to  acquit  him  of  all  blame  in  the 
matter. 

The  night  before  he  left  California  a  few  of  his  more 
intimate  friends  gave  him  a  farewell  dinner  which,  in 
the  light  of  all  that  followed,  now  wears  an  almost  tragic 
aspect.  It  is  thus  described  by  one  of  the  company: 
**A  little  party  of  us,  eight,  all  working  writers,  met 
for  a  last  symposium.  It  was  one  of  the  veritable  nodes 
amhrosianae ;  the  talk  was  intimate,  heart-to-heart,  and 
altogether  of  the  shop.  Naturally  Harte  was  the  centre 
of  the  little  company,  and  he  was  never  more  fascinating 
and  companionable.  Day  was  breaking  when  the  party 


DEPARTURE  FROM  CALIFORNIA  219 

dispersed,  and  the  ties  that  bound  our  friend  to  Cali- 
fornia were  sundered  forever." 

Bret  Harte  left  San  Francisco  in  February,  1871. 

Seventeen  years  before  he  had  landed  there,  a  mere 
boy,  without  money  or  prospects,  without  trade  or  pro- 
fession. Now  he  was  the  most  distinguished  person  in 
California,  and  his  departure  marked  the  close  of  an 
epoch  for  that  State.  Who  can  imagine  the  mingled 
feelings,  half -triumphant,  half-bitter,  with  which  he  must 
have  looked  back  upon  the  slow-receding,  white-capped 
Sierras  that  had  bounded  his  horizon  for  those  seven- 
teen eventful  years ! 


CHAPTER  XIV 

BRET   HARTE   IN   THE   EAST 

Before  Bret  Harte  left  California  he  had  been  in  cor- 
respondence with  some  persons  in  Chicago  who  pro- 
posed to  make  him  Editor  and  part  proprietor  of  a 
magazine  called  the  "Lakeside  Monthly."  A  dinner 
was  arranged  to  take  place  soon  after  his  arrival  in 
Chicago  at  which  Mr.  Harte  might  meet  the  men  who 
were  to  furnish  the  capital  for  this  purpose.  But  the 
guest  of  the  evening  did  not  appear.  Many  stories  were 
told  in  explanation  of  his  absence;  and  Bret  Harte's 
own  account  is  thus  stated  by  Mr.  Noah  Brooks :  — 
"  When  I  met  Harte  in  New  York  I  asked  him  about 
the  incident,  and  he  said  :  *  In  Chicago  I  stayed  with 
relations  of  my  wife's,  who  lived  on  the  North  Side,  or 
the  East  Side,  or  the  Northeast  Side,  or  the  Lord  knows 
where,  and  when  I  accepted  an  invitation  to  dinner  in 
a  hotel  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  I  expected  that  a  guide 
would  be  sent  me.  I  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange  city ;  a 
carriage  was  not  easily  to  be  obtained  in  the  neighbor- 
hood where  I  was,  and,  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  way  I 
should  take  to  reach  the  hotel,  I  waited  for  a  guide  until 
the  hour  for  dinner  had  passed,  and  then  sat  down,  as 
your  friend  S.  P.  D.  said  to  you  in  California  "  enfamilley 
with  my  family."  That 's  all  there  was  to  it.'  " 

Mr.  Pemberton,  commenting  on  this  explanation  says, 
"  I  can  readily  picture  Bret  Harte,  as  the  unwelcome 
dinner  hour  approached,  making  excuses  to  himself  for 
himself  and  conjuring  up  that  hitherto  unsuggested 
'guide.'" 

That  Mr.  Pemberton  was  right  as  to  the  "  guide  "  be- 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  221 

ing  an  afterthought,  is  proved  by  the  following  account, 
for  which  the  author  of  this  book  is  indebted  to  Mr. 
Francis  F.  Browne,  at  that  time  editor  of  the  "  Lake- 
side Monthly":  "I  remember  quite  clearly  Mr.  Harte's 
visit  to  my  office,  —  a  small,^  rather  youthful  looking  but 
alert  young  man  of  pleasing  manners  and  conversation. 
We  talked  of  the  literary  situation,  and  he  seemed  im- 
pressed with  the  opportunity  offered  by  Chicago  for  a 
high-class  literary  enterprise.  A  day  or  two  after  his 
arrival  here  Mr.  Harte  was  invited  to  a  dinner  at  the 
house  of  a  prominent  citizen,  to  meet  the  gentlemen 
who  were  expected  to  become  interested  in  the  magazine 
project  with  him.  Mr.  Harte  accepted  the  invitation. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  he  intended  going,  for  he  was  in 
my  office  the  afternoon  of  the  dinner,  and  left  about  five 
o'clock,  saying  he  was  going  home  to  dress  for  the  occa- 
sion. But  he  did  not  appear  at  the  dinner;  nor  did  he 
send  any  explanation  whatever.  There  being  then  no 
telephones,  no  explanation  was  given  until  the  next  day, 
and  it  was  then  to  the  effect  that  he  had  supposed  a 
carriage  would  be  sent  for  him,  and  had  waited  for  it 
until  too  late  to  start.  A  friend  of  the  author  tells  me 
that  he  had  previously  asked  Mr.  Harte  whether  he  should 
call  for  him  and  take  him  to  the  dinner ;  but  Harte 
assured  him  that  this  was  not  at  all  necessary,  that  he 
knew  perfectly  well  how  to  find  the  place.  The  other 
members  of  the  party,  however,  were  on  hand,  and  after 
waiting,  with  no  little  surprise,  for  the  chief  guest  to 
appear,  they  proceeded  to  eat  their  dinner  and  disperse ; 
but  Mr.  Harte  and  the  project  of  a  literary  connection 
with  him  in  Chicago  no  longer  interested  them." 

It  is  evident  that  for  some  reason,  unknown  outside 
of  his  own  family,  Bret  Harte  could  not  or  would  not 

1  Mrs.  Kemble,  on  the  other  hand,  as  the  Reader  may  remember,  de- 
scribed him  as  "  tall."  His  real  height,  already  mentioned,  was  five  feet, 
eight  inches. 


222  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

attend  the  dinner,  and  simply  remained  away.  The  result 
was  thus  stated  by  the  author  himself  in  a  letter  to 
a  friend  in  California :  "  I  presume  you  have  heard 
through  the  public  press  how  nearly  I  became  editor  and 
part  owner  of  the  'Lakeside,'  and  how  the  childishness 
and  provincial  character  of  a  few  of  the  principal  citi- 
zens of  Chicago  spoiled  the  project." 

Bret  Harte,  therefore,  continued  Eastward,  leaving 
Chicago  on  February  1 1,  "  stopping  over  "  a  few  days  in 
Syracuse,  and  reaching  New  York  on  February  20.  His 
stories  and  poems  —  especially  the  Heathen  Chinee  — 
had  lifted  him  to  such  a  pinnacle  of  renown  that  his 
progress  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic  was  detailed 
by  the  newspapers  with  almost  as  much  particularity  as 
were  the  movements  of  Admiral  Dewey  upon  his  return 
to  the  United  States  after  the  capture  of  Manilla.  The 
commotion  thus  caused  extended  even  to  England,  and 
a  London  paper  spoke  humorously,  but  kindly,  of  the 
"Bret  Harte  circular,"  which  recorded  the  daily  events 
of  the  author's  life. 

"  The  fame  of  Bret  Harte,"  remarked  the  "  New  York 
Tribune,"  as  the  railroad  bore  him  toward  that  city, 
"  has  so  brilliantly  shot  to  the  zenith  as  to  render  any 
comments  on  his  poems  a  superfluous  task.  The  verdict 
of  the  popular  mind  has  only  anticipated  the  voice  of 
sound  criticism." 

In  New  York  Mr.  Harte  and  his  family  went  immedi- 
ately to  the  house  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  F.  F.  Knaufft,  at 
number  16  Fifth  Avenue;  and  with  her  they  spent  the 
greater  part  of  the  next  two  years.  Three  days  after 
their  arrival  in  New  York  the  whole  family  went  to 
Boston,  Mr.  Harte  being  engaged  to  dine  with  the 
famous  Saturday  Club,  and  being  desirous  of  seeing  his 
publishers.  He  arrived  in  Boston  February  25,  his  com- 
ing having  duly  been  announced  by  telegrams  published 
in  all  the  papers.  Upon  the  morning  of  his  arrival  the 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  223 

"Boston  Advertiser"  had  the  following  pleasant  notice 
of  the  event.  "  He  will  have  a  hearty  welcome  from  many 
warm  friends  to  whom  his  face  is  yet  strange ;  and  after 
a  journey  across  the  continent,  in  which  his  modesty 
must  have  been  tried  almost  as  severely  as  his  endurance 
by  the  praises  showered  upon  him,  we  hope  that  he  will 
find  Boston  so  pleasant,  even  in  the  soberest  dress  which 
she  wears  during  the  year,  that  he  may  tarry  long 
among  us." 

In  Boston,  or  rather  at  Cambridge,  just  across  Charles 
River,  Bret  Harte  was  to  be  the  guest  of  Mr.  Howells, 
then  the  assistant  Editor  of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly," 
James  Russell  Lowell  being  the  Editor-in-Chief.  Mr. 
Howells'  account^  of  this  visit  is  so  interesting,  and 
throws  so  much  light  upon  Bret  Harte's  character,  that 
it  is  impossible  to  refrain  from  quoting  it  here  :  — 

"When  the  adventurous  young  Editor  who  had  pro- 
posed being  his  host  for  Boston,  while  Harte  was  still  in 
San  Francisco,  and  had  not  yet  begun  his  princely  pro- 
gress Eastward,  read  of  the  honors  that  attended  his 
coming  from  point  to  point,  his  courage  fell,  as  if  he  per- 
haps had  committed  himself  in  too  great  an  enterprise. 
Who  was  he,  indeed,  that  he  should  think  of  making 
this  dear  son  of  memory,  great  heir  of  fame,  his  guest, 
especially  when  he  heard  that  in  Chicago  Harte  failed  of 
attending  a  banquet  of  honor  because  the  givers  of  it 
had  not  sent  a  carriage  to  fetch  him  to  it,  as  the  alleged 
use  was  in  San  Francisco  ?  Whether  true  or  not,  and  it 
was  probably  not  true  in  just  that  form,  it  must  have 
been  this  rumor  which  determined  his  host  to  drive  into 
Boston  for  him  with  the  handsomest  hack  which  the 
livery  of  Cambridge  afforded,  and  not  trust  to  the  horse- 
car  and  the  express  to  get  him  and  his  baggage  out,  as 
he  would  have  done  with  a  less  portentous  guest. 

"  However  it  was,  he  instantly  lost  all  fear  when  they 

1  W.  D.  Howells,  "  Literary  Friends  and  Acquaintance.'* 


224  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

met  at  the  station,  and  Harte  pressed  forward  with  his 
cordial  hand-clasp,  as  if  he  were  not  even  a  fairy  prince, 
and  with  that  voice  and  laugh  which  were  surely  the 
most  winning  in  the  world.  The  drive  out  from  Boston 
was  not  too  long  for  getting  on  terms  of  personal  friend- 
ship with  the  family  which  just  filled  the  hack,  the  two 
boys  intensely  interested  in  the  novelties  of  a  New  Eng- 
land city  and  suburb,  and  the  father  and  mother  contin- 
ually exchanging  admiration  of  such  aspects  of  nature 
as  presented  themselves  in  the  leafless  sidewalk  trees, 
and  patches  of  park  and  lawn.  They  found  everything 
so  fine,  so  refined,  after  the  gigantic  coarseness  of  Cali- 
fornia, where  the  natural  forms  were  so  vast  that  one 
could  not  get  on  companionable  terms  with  them.  Their 
host  heard  them  with  misgiving  for  the  world  of  romance 
which  Harte  had  built  up  among  those  huge  forms,  and 
with  a  subtle  perception  that  this  was  no  excursion  of 
theirs  to  the  East,  but  a  lifelong  exodus  from  the  exile 
which  he  presently  understood  they  must  always  have 
felt  California  to  be.  It  is  different  now,  when  people 
are  every  day  being  born  in  California,  and  must  begin 
to  feel  it  home  from  the  first  breath,  but  it  is  notable 
that  none  of  the  Californians  of  that  great  early  day 
have  gone  back  to  live  amidst  the  scenes  which  inspired 
and  prospered  them. 

"Before  they  came  in  sight  of  the  Editor's  humble 
roof  he  had  mocked  himself  to  his  guest  at  his  trepida- 
tions, and  Harte  with  burlesque  magnanimity  had  con- 
sented to  be  for  that  occasion  only  something  less  for- 
midable than  he  had  loomed  afar.  He  accepted  with  joy 
the  theory  of  passing  a  week  in  the  home  of  virtuous 
poverty,  and  the  week  began  as  delightfully  as  it  went 
on.  From  first  to  last  Cambridge  amused  him  as  much 
as  it  charmed  him  by  that  air  of  academic  distinction 
which  was  stranger  to  him  even  than  the  refined  trees 
and  grass.  It  has  already  been  told  how,  after  a  list  of 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  225 

the  local  celebrities  had  been  recited  to  him,  he  said, 
'  Why,  you  could  n't  stand  on  your  front  porch  and  fire 
off  your  revolver  without  bringing  down  a  two-volumer,' 
and  no  doubt  the  pleasure  he  had  in  it  was  the  effect  of 
its  contrast  with  the  wild  California  he  had  known,  and 
perhaps,  when  he  had  not  altogether  known  it,  had  in- 
vented. 

"  Cambridge  began  very  promptly  to  show  him  those 
hospitalities  which  he  could  value,  and  continued  the 
fable  of  his  fairy  princeliness  in  the  curiosity  of  those 
humbler  admirers  who  could  not  hope  to  be  his  hosts  or 
fellow-guests  at  dinner  or  luncheon.  Pretty  presences  in 
the  tie-backs  of  the  period  were  seen  to  flit  before  the 
home  of  virtuous  poverty,  hungering  for  any  chance 
sight  of  him  which  his  outgoings  or  incomings  might 
give.  The  chances  were  better  with  the  outgoings  than 
with  the  incomings,  for  these  were  apt  to  be  so  hurried, 
in  the  final  result  of  his  constitutional  delays,  as  to  have 
the  rapidity  of  the  homing  pigeon's  flight,  and  to  afford 
hardly  a  glimpse  to  the  quickest  eye. 

"  It  cannot  harm  him,  or  any  one  now,  to  own  that 
Harte  was  nearly  always  late  for  those  luncheons  and 
dinners  which  he  was  always  going  out  to,  and  it  needed 
the  anxieties  and  energies  of  both  families  to  get  him 
into  his  clothes,  and  then  into  the  carriage,  where  a  good 
deal  of  final  buttoning  must  have  been  done,  in  order 
that  he  might  not  arrive  so  very  late.  He  was  the  only 
one  concerned  who  was  quite  unconcerned ;  his  patience 
with  his  delays  was  inexhaustible ;  he  arrived  smiling, 
serenely  jovial,  radiating  a  bland  gay ety  from  his  whole 
person,  and  ready  to  ignore  any  discomfort  he  might 
have  occasioned. 

"Of  course,  people  were  glad  to  have  him  on  his  own 
terms,  and  it  may  be  said  that  it  was  worth  while  to  hav^ 
him  on  any  terms.  There  was  never  a  more  charming 
companion,  an  easier  or  more  delightful  guest.  It  was 


226  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

not  from  what  he  said,  for  he  was  not  much  of  a  talker, 
and  almost  nothing  of  a  story-teller ;  but  he  could  now 
and  then  drop  the  fittest  word,  and  with  a  glance  or 
smile  of  friendly  intelligence  express  the  appreciation  of 
another's  word  which  goes  far  to  establish  for  a  man 
the  character  of  born  humorist. 

"  It  must  be  said  of  him  that  if  he  took  the  honors 
easily  that  were  paid  him,  he  took  them  modestly,  and 
never  by  word  or  look  invited  them,  or  implied  that  he 
expected  them.  It  was  fine  to  see  him  humorously  ac- 
cepting the  humorous  attribution  of  scientific  sympathies 
from  Agassiz,  in  compliment  of  his  famous  epic  describ- 
ing the  incidents  that  'broke  up  the  Society  upon  the 
Stanislaus.' " 

Of  his  personal  appearance  at  this  time  Mr.  Howells 
says  :  "  He  was  then,  as  always,  a  child  of  extreme  fash- 
ion as  to  his  clothes  and  the  cut  of  his  beard,  which  he 
wore  in  a  mustache  and  the  drooping  side-whiskers  of 
the  day,  and  his  jovial  physiognomy  was  as  winning  as 
his  voice,  with  its  straight  nose  and  fascinating  forward 
thrust  of  the  under-lip,  its  fine  eyes  and  good  forehead, 
then  thickly  covered  with  black  hair  which  grew  early 
white,  while  his  mustache  remained  dark,  the  most  envi- 
able and  consoling  effect  possible  in  the  universal  mortal 
necessity  of  either  aging  or  dyeing." 

It  can  easily  be  imagined,  although  Mr.  Howells  does 
not  say  so,  that  the  atmosphere  of  Cambridge  was  far 
from  being  congenial  to  Bret  Harte.  University  towns 
are  notorious  for  taking  narrow,  academic  views  of  life  ; 
and  in  Cambridge,  at  least  during  the  period  in  question, 
the  college  circle  was  complicated  by  some  remnants  of 
colonial  aristocracy  that  looked  with  suspicion  upon  any 
person  or  idea  originating  outside  of  England  —  Old  or 
New.  Bret  Harte,  as  may  be  imagined,  was  not  awed  by 
his  new  and  highly  respectable  surroundings.  "  It  was  a 
little  fearsome,"  writes  Mr.  Howells,  "  to  hear  him  frankly 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  227 

owning  to  Lowell  his  dislike  for  something  over-literary 
in  the  phrasing  of  certain  verses  of  *  The  Cathedral.'  But 
Lowell  could  stand  that  sort  of  thing  from  a  man  who 
could  say  the  sort  of  things  that  Harte  said  to  him  of  that 
delicious  line  picturing  the  bobolink  as  he 

Runs  down  a  brook  of  laughter  in  the  air. 

That,  Bret  Harte  told  him,  was  the  line  he  liked  best  of 
all  his  lines,  and  Lowell  smoked,  well  content  with  the 
phrase.  Yet  they  were  not  men  to  get  on  well  together, 
Lowell  having  limitations  in  directions  where  Harte  had 
none.  Afterward,  in  London,  they  did  not  meet  often  or 
willingly." 

Bret  Harte  was  taken  to  see  Emerson  at  Concord,  but 
probably  without  much  profit  on  either  side,  though  with 
some  entertainment  for  the  younger  man.  "  Emerson's 
smoking,"  Mr.  Howells  relates,  "  amused  Bret  Harte  as 
a  Jovian  self-indulgence  divinely  out  of  character  with  so 
supreme  a  god,  and  he  shamelessly  burlesqued  it,  telling 
how  Emerson  proposed  having  a  *  wet  night '  with  him, 
over  a  glass  of  sherry,  and  urged  the  wine  upon  his  young 
friend  with  a  hospitable  gesture  of  his  cigar." 

"Longfellow,  alone,"  Mr.  Howells  adds,  "escaped  the 
corrosive  touch  of  his  subtle  irreverence,  or,  more  strictly 
speaking,  had  only  the  effect  of  his  reverence.  That 
gentle  and  exquisitely  modest  dignity  of  Longfellow's  he 
honored  with  as  much  veneration  as  it  was  in  him  to  be- 
stow, and  he  had  that  sense  of  Longfellow's  beautiful 
and  perfected  art  which  is  almost  a  test  of  a  critic's  own 
fineness." 

Bret  Harte  and  Longfellow  met  at  an  evening  party 
in  Cambridge,  and  walked  home  together  afterward  ;  and 
when  Longfellow  died,  in  1882,  Bret  Harte  wrote  down 
at  some  length  his  impressions  of  the  poet.^  It  had  been 
a  characteristic  New  England  day  in  early  Spring,  with 

1  See  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  228. 


228  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

rain  followed  by  snow,  and  finally  clearing  off  cold  and 
still. 

"I  like  to  recall  him  at  that  moment,  as  he  stood  in 
the  sharp  moonlight  of  the  snow-covered  road ;  a  dark 
mantle-like  cloak  hiding  his  evening  dress,  and  a  slouched 
felt  hat  covering  his  full  silver-like  locks.  The  conven- 
tional gibus  or  chimney-pot  would  have  been  as  intoler- 
able on  that  wonderful  brow  as  it  would  be  on  a  Greek 
statue,  and  I  was  thankful  there  was  nothing  to  interrupt 
the  artistic  harmony  of  the  most  impressive  vignette  I 
ever  beheld.  ...  I  think  I  was  at  first  moved  by  his 
voice.  It  was  a  very  deep  baritone  without  a  trace  of 
harshness,  but  veiled  and  reserved  as  if  he  never  parted 
entirely  from  it,  and  with  the  abstraction  of  a  soliloquy 
even  in  his  most  earnest  moments.  It  was  not  melan- 
choly, yet  it  suggested  one  of  his  own  fancies  as  it  fell 
from  his  silver-fringed  lips 

'  Like  the  water's  flow 
Under  December's  snow.' 

Yet  no  one  had  a  quicker  appreciation  of  humour,  and 
his  wonderful  skill  as  a  racontetiry  and  his  opulence  of 
memory,  justified  the  saying  of  his  friends  that  'no  one 
ever  heard  him  tell  an  old  story  or  repeat  a  new  one.'  .  .  . 
Speaking  of  the  spiritual  suggestions  in  material  things, 
I  remember  saying  that  I  thought  there  must  first  be 
some  actual  resemblance,  which  unimaginative  people 
must  see  before  the  poet  could  successfully  use  them.  I 
instanced  the  case  of  his  own  description  of  a  camel  as 
being  *  weary '  and  *  baring  his  teeth,'  and  added  that  I 
had  seen  them  throw  such  infinite  weariness  into  that  ac- 
tion after  a  day's  journey  as  to  set  spectators  yawning. 
He  seemed  surprised,  so  much  so  that  I  asked  him  if  he 
had  seen  many  —  fully  believing  he  had  travelled  in  the 
desert.  He  replied  simply,  *No,'  that  he  had  *only  seen 
one  once  in  the  Jardin  des  Plantes!    Yet  in  that  brief 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  229 

moment  he  had  noticed  a  distinctive  fact,  which  the 
larger  experience  of  others  fully  corroborated." 

Mr.  Pemberton  also  contributes  this  interesting  remi- 
niscence :  **  With  his  intimate  friends  Bret  Harte  ever 
delighted  to  talk  enthusiastically  of  Longfellow,  and 
would  declare  that  his  poems  had  greatly  influenced  his 
thoughts  and  life.  Hiawatha  he  declared  to  be  *  not  only 
a  wonderful  poem,  but  a  marvellously  true  descriptive 
narrative  of  Indian  life  and  lore.'  I  think  he  knew  it  all 
by  heart." 

Bret  Harte  and  his  family  stayed  a  week  with  Mr. 
Howells,  and  one  event  was  the  Saturday  Club  dinner 
which  Mr.  Howells  has  described.  "  Harte  was  the  life 
of  a  time  which  was  perhaps  less  a  feast  of  reason  than 
a  flow  of  soul.  The  truth  is,  there  was  nothing  but  care- 
less stories,  carelessly  told,  and  jokes  and  laughing,  and 
a  great  deal  of  mere  laughing  without  the  jokes,  the 
whole  as  unlike  the  ideal  of  a  literary  symposium  as 
well  might  be." 

One  of  the  guests,  unused  to  the  society  of  literary 
men,  Mr.  Howells  says,  had  looked  forward  with  some 
awe  to  the  occasion,  and  Bret  Harte  was  amused  at  the 
result.  "  *  Look  at  him  ! '  he  said  from  time  to  time.  *  This 
is  the  dream  of  his  life' ;  and  then  shouted  and  choked 
with  fun  at  the  difference  between  the  occasion,  and  the 
expectation  he  would  have  imagined  in  his  commensal's 
mind."  The  "commensal,"  as  appears  from  a  subsequent 
essay  by  Mr.  Howells,  was  Mark  Twain,  who,  like  Bret 
Harte,  had  recently  arrived  from  the  West.  Somehow, 
the  account  of  this  dinner  as  given  by  Mr.  Howells 
leaves  an  unpleasant  impression. 

The  atmosphere  of  Boston  was  hardly  more  congenial 
to  Bret  Harte  than  that  of  Cambridge.  Boston  was  al- 
most as  provincial  as  San  Francisco,  though  in  a  differ- 
ent way.  The  leaders  of  society  were  men  and  women 
who  had  grown  up  with  the  bourgeois   traditions  of  a 


230  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

rich,  isolated  commercial  and  colonial  town ;  and  they 
had  the  same  feeling  of  horror  for  a  man  from  the  West 
that  they  had  for  a  Methodist.  The  best  part  of  Boston 
was  the  serious,  well-educated,  conscientious  element, 
typified  by  the  Garrison  family;  but  this  element  was 
much  less  conspicuous  in  1871  than  it  had  been  earlier. 
The  feeling  for  art  and  literature,  also,  was  neither  so 
widespread  nor  so  deep  as  it  had  been  in  the  thirty-five 
years  preceding  the  Civil  War.  Moreover,  the  peculiar 
faults  of  the  Boston  man,  his  worship  of  respectability, 
his  self-satisfied  narrowness,  his  want  of  charity  and 
sympathy,  —  these  were  the  very  faults  that  especially 
jarred  upon  Bret  Harte,  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  man 
from  Boston  makes  a  poor  appearance  in  his  stories. 

"  It  was  a  certain  Boston  lawyer,  replete  with  princi- 
ple, honesty,  self-discipline,  statistics,  authorities,  and  a 
perfect  consciousness  of  possessing  all  these  virtues,  and 
a  full  recognition  of  their  market  values.  I  think  he  tol- 
erated me  as  a  kind  of  foreigner,  gently  waiving  all  ar- 
gument on  any  topic,  frequently  distrusting  my  facts, 
generally  my  deductions,  and  always  my  ideas.  In  con- 
versation he  always  appeared  to  descend  only  halfway 
down  a  long  moral  and  intellectual  staircase,  and  always 
delivered  his  conclusions  over  the  balusters,"^ 

And  yet,  with  characteristic  fairness,  Bret  Harte  does 
not  fail  to  portray  the  good  qualities  of  the  Boston  man. 
The  Reader  will  remember  the  sense  of  honor,  the  courage 
and  energy,  and  even  —  under  peculiar  circumstances  — 
the  capacity  to  receive  new  ideas,  shown  by  John  Hale, 
the  Boston  man  who  figures  in  Snow-B  ound  at  Eagle  s^  and 
who  was  of  the  same  type  as  the  lawyer  just  described. 

Henry  Hart  and  his  family  spent  a  year  in  Boston 
when  Bret  Harte  was  about  the  age  of  four,  but,  con- 
trary to  the  general  impression,  Bret  Harte  never  lived 
there  afterward,  although  he  once  spent  a  few  weeks 

1  My  Friend  the  Tramps  written  in  1872. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  231 

in  the  city  as  the  guest  of  the  publisher,  Mr.  J.  R.  Os- 
good, then  living  on  Pinckney  Street,  in  the  old  West  End. 
A  small  section  of  the  north  side  of  Pinckney  Street 
forms  the  northern  end  of  Louisburg  Square;  and  this 
square,  as  it  happens,  is  the  only  place  in  Boston  which 
Bret  Harte  depicts.  Here  lived  Mr.  Adams  Rightbody, 
as  appears  from  the  brief  but  unmistakable  description 
of  the  place  in  The  Great  Deadwood  Mystery,  A  tele- 
gram to  Mr.  Rightbody  had  been  sent  at  night  from 
Tuolumne  County,  California ;  and  its  progress  and  de- 
livery are  thus  related:  "The  message  lagged  a  little 
at  San  Francisco,  laid  over  half  an  hour  at  Chicago,  and 
fought  longitude  the  whole  way,  so  that  it  was  past  mid- 
night when  the  'all-night'  operator  took  it  from  the  wires 
at  Boston.  But  it  was  freighted  with  a  mandate  from 
the  San  Francisco  office;  and  a  messenger  was  procured, 
who  sped  with  it  through  dark,  snow-bound  streets,  be- 
tween the  high  walls  of  close-shuttered,  rayless  houses 
to  a  certain  formal  square,  ghostly  with  snow-covered 
statues.  Here  he  ascended  the  broad  steps  of  a  reserved 
and  solid-looking  mansion,  and  pulled  a  bronze  bell-knob 
that,  somewhere  within  those  chaste  recesses,  after  an 
apparent  reflective  pause,  coldly  communicated  the  fact 
that  a  stranger  was  waiting  without — as  he  ought." 

That  Bret  Harte  made  no  mistake  in  selecting  Louis- 
burg Square  as  the  residence  of  that  intense  Bostonian, 
Mr.  Rightbody,  will  be  seen  from  Mr.  Lindsay  Swift's 
description  in  his  ''Literary  Landmarks  of  Boston." 
"This  retired  spot  is  the  quintessence  of  the  older  Bos- 
ton. Without  positive  beauty,  its  dignity  and  repose  save 
it  from  any  suggestion  of  ugliness.  Here  once  bubbled 
up,  it  is  fondly  believed,  in  the  centre  of  the  iron-railed 
enclosure,  that  spring  of  water  with  which  First  Settler 
William  Blackstone  helped  to  coax  Winthrop  and  his 
followers  over  the  river  from  Charlestown.  There  is  no 
monument  to  Blackstone,  here  or  anywhere,  but  in  this 


232  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

significant  spot  stand  two  statues,  one  to  Columbus  and 
one  to  Aristides  the  Just,  both  of  Italian  make,  and  pre- 
sented to  the  city  by  a  Greek  merchant  of  Boston." 

After  the  week's  stay  in  Cambridge,  with,  of  course, 
frequent  excursions  to  Boston,  Bret  Harte  and  his  family 
returned  to  New  York.  The  proposals  made  to  him  by 
publishing  houses  in  that  city  were,  Mr.  Howells  reports, 
"either  mortifyingly  mean  or  insultingly  vague  "  ;  and  a 
few  days  later  Bret  Harte  accepted  the  offer  of  James  R. 
Osgood  and  Company,  then  publishers  of  "The  Atlantic," 
to  pay  him  ten  thousand  dollars  during  the  ensuing  year 
for  whatever  he  might  write  in  the  twelve  months,  be  it 
much  or  little.  This  offer,  a  munificent  one  for  the  time, 
was  made  despite  the  astonishing  fact  that  of  the  first 
volume  of  Bret  Harte's  stories,  issued  by  the  same  pub- 
lishers six  months  before,  only  thirty-five  hundred  copies 
had  then  been  sold.  The  arrangement  did  not,  of  course, 
require  Mr.  Harte's  residence  in  Boston,  and  for  the 
next  two  Winters  he  remained  with  his  sister  in  New 
York,  spending  the  first  Summer  at  Newport. 

It  has  often  been  stated  that  the  rather  indefinite 
contract  which  the  publishers  made  with  Bret  Harte 
turned  out  badly  for  them,  and  that  he  wrote  but  a  single 
story,  as  it  is  sometimes  put,  during  the  whole  year. 
But  the  slightest  investigation  will  show  that  these 
statements  do  ourauthor  great  injustice.  The  year  of  the 
contract  began  with  July,  1871,  and  ended  with  June, 
1872  ;  and  the  two  volumes  of  the  "  Atlantic  "  covering 
that  period,  No.  28  and  No.  29,  contain  the  following 
stories  by  Bret  Harte  :  — 

The  Poet  of  Sierra  Flaty  Princess  Bob  and  Her  Friends^ 
The  Romance  of  Madrono  Hollow^  How  Santa  Claus 
Came  to  Simps 071  s  Bar; 

And  the  following  poems :  A  Greyport  Legend,  A 
Newport  Romance ,  Concepcion  de  Argue llo,  Grandmother 
Tenterden,  The  Idyl  of  Battle  Hollow. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  233 

Surely,  this  was  giving  full  measure,  and  it  represents 
a  year  of  very  hard  work,  unless  indeed  it  was  partly 
done  in  California.  One  of  the  stories,  How  Santa  Claus 
Came  to  Simpsons  Bar^  is,  as  every  reader  of  Bret 
Harte  will  admit,  among  the  best  of  his  tales,  inferior  only 
£0  Tennessee  s  Partner^  The  Lucky  and  The  Outcasts. 

It  is  noticeable  that  all  these  "Atlantic  Monthly  "  sto- 
ries deal  with  California ;  and  an  amusing  illustration 
of  Bret  Harte's  literary  habits  may  be  gathered  from 
the  fact  that  in  every  case  his  story  brings  up  the  rear 
of  the  magazine,  although  it  would  naturally  have  been 
given  the  place  of  honor.  Evidently  the  manuscript  was 
received  by  the  printers  at  the  last  possible  moment. 
One  of  the  poems,  the  Newport  Romance^  seems  to  lack 
those  patient,  finishing  touches  which  it  was  his  custom 
to  bestow. 

For  the  next  seven  years  of  Bret  Harte's  life  there  is 
not  much  to  record.  During  the  greater  part  of  the  time 
New  York  was  his  winter  home.  From  his  Summer  at 
Newport  resulted  the  poems  already  mentioned,  A  Grey- 
port  Legend  and  ^  Newport  Romance.  Hence  also  a 
scene  or  two  in  Mrs.  Skaggss  Husbands^  published  in 
1872.  But  the  poems  deal  with  the  past,  and  neither  in 
them  nor  in  any  story  did  the  author  attempt  to  describe 
that  luxurious,  exotic  life,  grafted  upon  the  Atlantic  Coast, 
over  which  other  romancers  have  fondly  lingered. 

Two  or  three  Summers  were  spent  by  Bret  Harte  and 
his  family  in  Morristown,  New  Jersey.  Here  he  wrote 
Thankful  Blossom^  a  pretty  story  of  Revolutionary  times, 
describing  events  which  occurred  at  the  very  spot  where 
he  was  living,  but  lacking  the  strength  and  originality 
of  his  California  tales.  **  Thankful  Blossom  "  was  not  an 
imaginary  name,  but  the  real  name  of  one  of  his  mother's 
ancestors,  a  member  of  the  Truesdale  family ;  and  it 
should  be  mentioned  that  before  writing  this  story  Bret 
Harte,  with  characteristic  thoroughness,  made  a  careful 


234  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

study  of  the  place  where  Washington  had  his  head- 
quarters at  Morristown,  and  of  the  surrounding  country. 

One  other  Summer  the  Harte  family  spent  at  New 
London,  in  Connecticut,  and  still  another  at  Cohasset, 
a  seashore  town  about  twenty  miles  south  of  Boston. 
Here  he  became  the  neighbor  and  friend  of  the  actors, 
Lawrence  Barrett  and  Stuart  Robson,  for  the  latter  of 
whom  he  wrote  the  play  called  Two  Men  of  Sandy  Bar. 
This  was  produced  in  September,  1876,  at  the  Union 
Square  Theatre  in  New  York,  but,  although  not  a  fail- 
ure, it  did  not  attain  permanent  success.  The  principal 
characters  were  Sandy  Morton,  played  by  Charles  R. 
Thorn e,  and  Colonel  Starbottle,  taken  by  Stuart  Rob- 
son.  John  Oakhurst,  the  Yankee  Schoolmistress  (from 
The  Idyl  of  Red  Gulch)^  a  Chinaman,  an  Australian 
convict,  and  other  figures  taken  from  Bret  Harte's  sto- 
ries, also  appeared  in  the  piece.  The  part  of  Hop  Sing, 
the  Chinaman,  was  played  by  Mr.  C.  T.  Parsloe,  and  with 
so  much  success  that  afterward,  in  collaboration  with 
Mark  Twain,  Bret  Harte  wrote  a  melodrama  for  Mr. 
Parsloe  called  Ah  Sin  ;  but  this,  too,  failed  to  keep  the 
boards  for  long. 

Mr.  Pemberton  speaks  of  another  play  in  respect  to 
which  Bret  Harte  sought  the  advice  of  Dion  Bouci- 
cault  ;  but  this  appears  never  to  have  been  finished.  It 
was  a  cause  of  annoyance  and  disgust  to  Bret  Harte 
after  he  had  left  this  country,  that  a  version  of  M'liss 
converting  that  beautiful  story  into  a  vulgar  "  song  and 
dance  "  entertainment  was  produced  on  the  stage  and  in 
its  way  became  a  great  success.  Bret  Harte  was  unable 
to  prevent  these  performances  in  the  United  States,  but 
he  did  succeed,  by  means  of  a  suit,  threatened  if  not 
actually  begun,  in  preventing  their  repetition  in  England. 
A  very  inferior  theatrical  version  of  Gabriel  Conroy, 
also,  was  brought  out  in  New  York  without  the  author's 
consent,  and  much  against  his  will. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  235 

Bret  Harte  had  a  lifelong  desire  to  write  a  notable 
play,  and  made  many  attempts  in  that  direction.  One  of 
them  succeeded.  With  the  help  of  his  friend  and  biogra- 
pher, Mr.  Pemberton,  he  dramatized  his  story,  The  Judg- 
ment of  Bolinas  Plain;  and  the  result,  a  melodrama  in 
three  acts,  called  Suey  was  produced  in  New  York  in  1896, 
and  was  well  received  both  by  the  critics  and  the  audience. 
Afterward  the  play  was  successfully  performed  on  a 
tour  of  the  United  States;  and  in  1898  it  was  brought 
out  in  London,  and  was  equally  successful  there.  The 
heroine's  part  was  taken  by  Miss  Annie  Russell,  of  whom 
Mr.  Pemberton  gracefully  says,  *'How  much  the  writers 
owed  to  her  charming  personality  and  her  deft  handling 
of  a  difficult  part  they  freely  and  gratefully  acknow- 
ledged." But  even  this  play  has  not  become  a  classic. 

Of  his  experience  as  a  fellow-worker  with  Bret  Harte, 
Mr.  Pemberton  gives  this  interesting  account.  '*  Infi- 
nite painstaking,  I  soon  learned,  was  the  essence  of  his 
system.  Of  altering  and  re-altering  he  was  never  tired, 
and  though  it  was  sometimes  a  little  disappointing  to  find 
that  what  we  had  considered  as  finished  over-night,  had, 
at  his  desire,  to  be  reconsidered  in  the  morning,  the  hu- 
morous way  in  which  he  would  point  out  how  serious  sit- 
uations might,  by  a  twist  of  the  pen,  or  by  incompetent 
acting,  create  derisive  laughter,  compensated  for  double 
or  even  treble  work.  No  one  realized  more  keenly  than 
he  did  that  to  most  things  there  is  a  comic  as  well  as  a 
serious  side,  and  it  seemed  to  make  him  vastly  happy  to 
put  his  finger  on  his  own  vulnerable  spots." 

Mr.  Pemberton  speaks  of  several  other  plays  written 
by  Bret  Harte  and  himself,  and  of  one  written  by  Bret 
Harte  alone  for  Mr.  J.  L.  Toole.  But  none  of  these  was 
ever  acted.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  Bret  Harte  loved 
the  theatre  and  had  a  keen  appreciation  of  good  acting. 
In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Pemberton,  he  spoke  of  John  Hare's 
"wonderful  portrayal  of  the  Duke  of  St.  Olpherts  in 


236  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

'The  Notorious  Mrs.  Ebbsmith.'  He  is  gallantly  at- 
tempting to  relieve  Mrs.  Thorpe  of  the  tray  she  is  carry- 
ing, but  of  course  lacks  the  quickness,  the  alertness,  and 
even  the  actual  energy  to  do  it,  and  so  follows  her  with 
delightful  simulation  of  assistance  all  over  the  stage, 
while  she  carries  it  herself,  he  pursuing  the  form  and 
ignoring  the  performance.  It  is  a  wonderful  study." 

Bret  Harte  had  not  been  long  in  the  East,  probably  he 
had  not  been  there  a  month,  before  he  began  to  feel  the 
pressure  of  those  money  difficulties  from  which  neither 
he,  nor  his  father  before  him,  was  ever  free.  Doubtless 
he  would  often  have  been  at  a  loss  for  ready  money,  even 
if  he  had  possessed  the  wealth  of  all  the  Indies.  He  left 
debts  in  California,  and  very  soon  had  acquired  others  in 
New  York  and  Boston. 

Mr.  Noah  Brooks,  who  was  intimate  with  Bret  Harte 
in  New  York  as  well  as  in  San  Francisco,  wrote,  after  his 
death :  "  I  had  not  been  long  in  the  city  before  I  found 
that  Harte  had  already  incurred  many  debts,  chiefly  for 
money  borrowed.  When  I  said  to  Bowles ^  that  I  was  anx- 
ious on  Harte's  account  that  a  scandal  should  not  come 
from  this  condition  of  things,  Bowles  said,  with  his  good- 
natured  cynicism,  'Well,  it  does  seem  to  me  that  there 
ought  to  be  enough  rich  men  in  New  York  to  keep  Harte 
a-going.' 

"One  rich  man,  a  banker  and  broker,  with  an  ambition 
to  be  considered  a  patron  of  the  arts  and  literature,  made 
much  of  the  new  literary  lion,  and  from  him  Harte  ob- 
tained a  considerable  sum,  $500  perhaps,  in  small  amounts 
varying  from  ^5  to  $$0  at  a  time.  One  New  Year's  day 
Harte,  in  as  much  wrath  as  he  was  ever  capable  of  show- 
ing, spread  before  me  a  note  from  our  friend  Dives  in 
which  the  writer,  who,  by  the  way,  was  not  reckoned  a 
generous  giver,  reminded  Harte  that  this  was  the  season 
of  the  year  when  business  men  endeavored  to  enter  a 

^  Samuel  Bowles,  famous  as  Editor  of  the  "Springfield  Republican." 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  237 

new  era  with  a  clean  page  in  the  ledger ;  and,  in  order  to 
enable  his  friend  H.  to  do  that,  he  took  the  liberty  of 
returning  to  him  sundry  I.  O.  U.'s  which  his  friend  H. 
had  given  him  from  time  to  time.  'Damn  his  impu- 
dence ! '  exclaimed  the  angry  artist. 

"  *  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it .? '  I  asked,  with 
some  amusement.  '  Going  to  do  about  it ! '  he  answered 
with  much  emphasis  on  the  first  word.  *  Going !  I  have 
made  a  new  note  for  the  full  amount  of  these  and  have 
sent  it  to  him  with  an  intimation  that  I  never  allow 
pecuniary  matters  to  trespass  on  the  sacred  domain  of 
friendship.'  Poor  Dives  was  denied  the  satisfaction  of 
giving  away  a  bad  debt." 

"  Once,  while  we  were  waiting  on  Broadway  for  a  stage 
to  take  him  down  town,  he  said,  as  the  lumbering  vehicle 
hove  in  sight,  '  Lend  me  a  quarter ;  I  have  n't  money 
enough  to  pay  my  stage  fare.'  Two  or  three  weeks  later, 
when  I  had  forgotten  the  incident,  we  stood  in  the  same 
place  waiting  for  the  same  stage,  and  Harte,  putting  a 
quarter  of  a  dollar  in  my  hand,  said  :  '  I  owe  you  a  quar- 
ter and  there  it  is.  You  hear  men  say  that  I  never  pay 
my  debts,  but  [this  with  a  chuckle]  you  can  deny  the 
slander.'  While  he  lived  in  Morristown,  N.  J.,  it  was  said 
that  he  pocketed  postage  stamps  sent  to  him  for  his 
autographs,  and  these  applications  were  so  numerous 
that  with  them  he  paid  his  butcher's  bill.  A  bright  lady 
to  whom  this  story  was  told  declared  that  the  tale  had 
been  denied,  'on  the  authority  of  the  butcher.'  Nobody 
laughed  more  heartily  at  this  sally  than  Harte  did  when 
it  came  to  his  ears." 

"Never,"  says  Mr.  Howells,  to  the  same  effect,  "was 
any  man  less  a  poseur.  He  made  simply  and  helplessly 
known  what  he  was  at  any  and  every  moment,  and  he 
would  join  the  witness  very  cheerfully  in  enjoying  what- 
ever was  amusing  in  the  disadvantage  to  himself."  And 
then  Mr.  Howells  relates  the  following  incident:  "In 


238  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

the  course  of  events  which  in  his  case  were  so  very 
human,  it  came  about  on  a  subsequent  visit  of  his  to 
Boston  that  an  impatient  creditor  decided  to  right  him- 
self out  of  the  proceeds  of  the  lecture  which  was  to  be 
given,  and  had  the  law  corporeally  present  at  the  house 
of  the  friend  where  Harte  dined,  and  in  the  ante-room 
at  the  lecture-hall,  and  on  the  platform  where  the  lecture 
was  delivered  with  beautiful  aplomb  and  untroubled 
charm.  He  was  indeed  the  only  one  privy  to  the  law's 
presence  who  was  not  the  least  affected  by  it,  so  that 
when  his  host  of  an  earlier  time  ventured  to  suggest, 
*  Well,  Harte,  this  is  the  old  literary  tradition  :  this  is 
the  Fleet  business  over  again,*  he  joyously  smote  his 
thigh  and  cried  out :  *  Yes ;  that 's  it ;  we  can  see  it  all 
now,  —  the  Fleet  Prison  with  Goldsmith,  Johnson,  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  old  masters  in  a  bunch ! ' " 

It  is  highly  probable  that  in  his  own  mind,  though 
perhaps  half  unconsciously,  Bret  Harte  excused  himself 
by  the  "old  literary  tradition"  for  his  remissness  in 
paying  his  debts.  And  for  such  a  feeling  on  his  part 
there  would  be,  the  present  writer  makes  bold  to  say, 
some  justification.  It  is  a  crude  method  of  collecting 
from  the  community  a  small  part  of  the  compensation 
due  to  the  author  for  the  pleasure  which  he  has  conferred 
upon  the  world  in  general.  The  method,  it  must  be 
admitted,  is  imperfectly  just.  The  particular  butcher  or 
grocer  to  whom  a  particular  poet  is  indebted  may  have 
a  positive  distaste  for  polite  literature,  and  might  natu- 
rally object  to  paying  for  books  which  other  people  read. 
Nevertheless  there  is  an  element  of  wild  justice  in  the 
attitude  of  the  poet.  The  world  owes  him  a  living,  and 
if  the  world  does  not  pay  its  debt,  why,  then,  the  debt 
may  fairly  be  levied  upon  the  world  in  such  manner  as  is 
possible.  This  at  least  is  to  be  said :  the  extravagance 
or  improvidence  of  a  man  like  Bret  Harte  stands  upon  a 
very  different  footing  from  that  of  an  ordinary  person. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  239 

We  should  be  ashamed  not  to  show  some  consideration, 
even  in  money  matters,  for  the  soldier  who  has  served 
his  country  in  time  of  war ;  and  the  romancer  who  has 
contributed  to  the  entertainment  of  the  race  is  entitled 
to  a  similar  indulgence. 

Soon  after  Bret  Harte's  arrival  in  the  East  his  friends 
urged  him  to  give  public  lectures  on  the  subject  of  life 
in  California.  The  project  was  extremely  distasteful  to 
him,  for  he  had  an  inborn  horror  of  notoriety,  —  even 
of  publicity ;  and  this  feeling,  it  may  be  added,  is  fully 
shared  by  the  other  members  of  his  family.  But  his 
money  difficulties  were  so  great,  and  the  prospect  held 
out  to  him  was  so  flattering  that  he  finally  consented. 
He  prepared  two  lectures ;  the  first,  entitled  The  Argo- 
nautSy  is  now  printed,  with  some  changes,  as  the  Intro- 
duction to  the  second  volume  of  his  collected  works. 
This  lecture  was  delivered  at  Albany,  New  York,  on 
December  3,  1872,  at  Tremont  Temple  in  Boston  on 
the  thirteenth  of  the  same  month,  on  December  16  at 
Steinway  Hall  in  New  York,  and  at  Washington  on  Jan- 
uary 7,  1873. 

From  Washington  the  lecturer  wrote  to  his  wife : 
"  The  audience  was  almost  as  quick  and  responsive  as 
the  Boston  folk,  and  the  committee-men,  to  my  great 
delight,  told  me  they  made  money  by  me.  ...  I  called 
on  Charlton  at  the  British  Minister's,  and  had  some  talk 
with  Sir  Edward  Thornton,  which  I  have  no  doubt  will 
materially  affect  the  foreign  policy  of  England.  If  I  have 
said  anything  to  promote  a  better  feeling  between  the 
two  countries  I  am  willing  he  should  get  the  credit  of  it.  I 
took  a  carriage  and  went  alone  to  the  Capitol  of  my  country. 
I  had  expected  to  be  disappointed,  but  not  agreeably.  It 
is  really  a  noble  building,  —  worthy  of  the  republic,  — 
vast,  magnificent,  sometimes  a  little  weak  in  detail,  but  in 
intent  always  high-toned,  grand  and  large  principled." ^ 
1  Pemberton's  "Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  133. 


240  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

The  same  lecture  was  delivered  at  Pittsburgh,  Penn- 
sylvania, on  January  9,  1873,  and  at  Ottawa  and  Montreal 
in  March  of  that  year. 

From  Montreal  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Harte  as  follows  i^ — 

"In  Ottawa  I  lectured  twice,  but  the  whole  thing  was 
a  pecuniary  failure.  There  was  scarcely  enough  money 
to  pay  expenses,  and  of  course  nothing  to  pay  me  with. 

has  no  money  of  his  own,  and  although  he  is  blam- 

able for  notthoroughlyexaminingthe  ground  before  bring- 
ing me  to  Ottawa,  he  was  evidently  so  completely  disap- 
pointed and  miserable  that  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart 
to  upbraid  him.  So  I  simply  told  him  that  unless  the 
Montreal  receipts  were  sufficient  to  pay  me  for  my  lecture 
there,  and  a  reasonable  part  of  the  money  due  me  from 
Ottawa,  I  should  throw  the  whole  thing  up.  To-night 
will  in  all  probability  settle  the  question.  Of  course  there 
are  those  who  tell  me  privately  that  he  is  no  manager, 
but  I  really  do  not  see  but  that  he  has  done  all  that  he 
could,  and  that  his  only  fault  is  in  his  sanguine  and  hope- 
ful nature. 

"  I  did  not  want  to  write  of  this  disappointment  to  you 
so  long  as  there  was  some  prospect  of  better  things.  You 
can  imagine,  however,  how  I  feel  at  this  cruel  loss  of  time 
and  money —  to  say  nothing  of  my  health,  which  is  still 
so  poor.  I  had  almost  recovered  from  my  cold,  but  in  lec- 
turing at  Ottawa  at  the  Skating  Rink,  a  hideous,  dismal 
damp  barn,  the  only  available  place  in  town,  I  caught  a 
fresh  cold  and  have  been  coughing  badly  ever  since.  And 
you  can  well  imagine  that  my  business  annoyances  do  not 
add  greatly  to  my  sleep  or  appetite. 

"Apart  from  this,  the  people  of  Ottawa  have  received 

me  very  kindly.  They  have  vied  with  each  other  in  social 

attention,  and  if  I  had  been  like  John  Gilpin,  'on  pleasure 

bent,'  they  would  have  made  my  visit  a  success.  The 

1  Pemberton's  "Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  136. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  241 

Governor-General  of  Canada  invited  me  to  stay  with  him 
at  his  seat,  Rideau  Hall,  and  I  spent  Sunday  and  Monday 
there.  Sir  John  and  Lady  Macdonald  were  also  most 
polite  and  courteous. 

"  I  shall  telegraph  you  to-morrow  if  I  intend  to  return 
at  once.  Don't  let  this  worry  you,  but  kiss  the  children 
for  me  and  hope  for  the  best.  I  would  send  you  some 
money  but  there  isnt  any  to  send,  and  maybe  I  shall  only 
bring  back  myself.  —  Your  affectionate 

Frank. 

"P.  S.— 26th. 

"Dear  Nan, — I  did  not  send  this  yesterday,  waiting  to 
find  the  result  of  last  night's  lecture.  It  was  d^fair  house 

and this  morning  paid  me  one  hundred  and  fifty 

dollars,  of  which  I  send  you  the  greater  part.  I  lecture 
again  to-night,  with  fair  prospects,  and  he  is  to  pay  some- 
thing on  account  of  the  Ottawa  engagement  besides  the 
fee  for  that  night.  I  will  write  again  from  Ogdensburg. 
— Always  yours,  Frank." 

This  lecture  trip  in  the  Spring  of  1873  was  followed  in 
the  Autumn  by  a  similar  trip  in  the  West,  with  lectures 
at  St.  Louis,  Topeka,  Atchison,  Lawrence,  and  Kansas 
City.  From  St.  Louis  he  wrote  to  his  wife  as  follows :  — 

"My  dear  Anna,  —  As  my  engagement  is  not  until 
the  2 1st  at  Topeka,  Kansas,  I  lie  over  here  until  to-morrow 
morning,  in  preference  to  spending  the  extra  day  in  Kan- 
sas. I've  accepted  the  invitation  of  Mr.  Hodges,  one  of 
the  managers  of  the  lecture  course,  to  stay  at  his  house. 
He  is  a  good  fellow,  with  the  usual  American  small  fam- 
ily and  experimental  housekeeping,  and  the  quiet  and 
change  from  the  hotel  are  very  refreshing  to  me.  They 
let  me  stay  in  my  own  room — which  by  the  way  is  hung 
with  the  chintz  of  our  49th  Street  house — and  don't 
bother  me  with  company.  So  I  was  very  good  to-day  and 


242  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

went  to  church.  There  was  fine  singing.  The  contralto 
sang  your  best  sentences  from  the  Te  Deum,  *  We  believe 
that  Thou  shalt  come,'  &c.,  &c.,  to  the  same  minor  chant 
that  I  used  to  admire. 

"  The  style  of  criticism  that  my  lecture  —  or  rather  my- 
self as  a  lecturer  —  has  received,  of  which  I  send  you  a 
specimen,  culminated  this  morning  in  an  editorial  in  the 

*  Republic,*  which  I  shall  send  you,  but  have  not  with 
me  at  present.  I  certainly  never  expected  to  be  mainly 
criticised  for  being  what  I  am  noty  a  handsome  fop  ;  but 
this  assertion  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  criticism.  They 
may  be  right  —  I  dare  say  they  are — in  asserting  that  I 
am  no  orator,  have  no  special  faculty  for  speaking,  no  fire, 
no  dramatic  earnestness  or  expression,  but  when  they  in- 
timate that  I  am  running  on  my  good  looks — save  the 
mark !  I  confess  I  get  hopelessly  furious.  You  will  be 
amused  to  hear  that  my  gold  studs  have  again  become 

*  diamonds,'  my  worn-out  shirts  *  faultless  linen,'  my  hag- 
gard face  that  of  a  'Spanish-looking  exquisite,'  my  habit- 
ual quiet  and  *  used-up '  way,  'gentle  and  eloquent  languor.' 
But  you  will  be  a  little  astonished  to  know  that  the  hall 
I  spoke  in  was  worse  than  Springfield,  and  notoriously 
so  — that  the  people  seemed  genuinely  pleased,  that  the 
lecture  inaugurated  the  '  Star '  course  very  handsomely, 
and  that  it  was  the  first  of  the  first  series  of  lectures  ever 
delivered  in  St.  Louis." 

In  a  letter  dated  Lawrence,  Kansas,  October  23,  1 873, 
he  relates  an  interesting  experience. 

"My  dear  Anna, — I  left  Topeka — which  sounds  like 
a  name  Franky  might  have  invented  —  early  yesterday 
morning,  but  did  not  reach  Atchison,  only  sixty  miles 
distant,  until  seven  o'clock  at  night  —  an  hour  before  the 
lecture.  The  engine  as  usual  had  broken  down,  and  left 
me  at  four  o'clock  fifteen  miles  from  Atchison,  on  the 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  243 

edge  of  a  bleak  prairie  with  only  one  house  in  sight.  But 
I  got  a  saddle-horse — there  was  no  vehicle  to  be  had  — 
and  strapping  my  lecture  and  blanket  to  my  back  I  gave 
my  valise  to  a  little  yellow  boy — who  looked  like  a  dirty 
terra-cotta  ifigure — with  orders  to  follow  me  on  another 
horse,  and  so  tore  off  towards  Atchison.  I  got  there  in 
time ;  the  boy  reached  there  two  hours  after. 

"  I  make  no  comment ;  you  can  imagine  the  half -sick, 
utterly  disgusted  man  who  glared  at  that  audience  over 

his  desk  that  night,  and  d d  them  inwardly  in  his 

heart.  And  yet  it  was  a  good  audience,  thoroughly  re- 
fined and  appreciative,  and  very  glad  to  see  me.  I  was 
very  anxious  about  this  lecture,  for  it  was  a  venture  of 
my  own,  and  I  had  been  told  that  Atchison  was  a  rough 
place  —  energetic  but  coarse.  I  think  I  wrote  you  from 
St.  Louis  that  I  had  found  there  were  only  three  actual 
engagements  in  Kansas,  and  that  my  list  which  gave 
Kansas  City  twice  was  a  mistake.  So  I  decided  to  take 
Atchison.  I  made  a  hundred  dollars  by  the  lecture,  and 
it  is  yours,  for  yourself.  Nan,  to  buy  '  Minxes '  with,  if 
you  want,  for  it  is  over  and  above  the  amount  Eliza  and 
I  footed  up  on  my  lecture  list.  I  shall  send  it  to  you  as 
soon  as  the  bulk  of  the  pressing  claims  are  settled. 

"Everything  thus  far  has  gone  well ;  besides  my  lec- 
ture of  to-night  I  have  one  more  to  close  Kansas,  and 
then  I  go  on  to  St.  Joseph.  I  've  been  greatly  touched 
with  the  very  honest  and  sincere  liking  which  these 
Western  people  seem  to  have  for  me.  They  seem  to  have 
read  everything  I  have  written  —  and  appear  to  appre- 
ciate the  best.  Think  of  a  rough  fellow  in  a  bearskin  coat 
and  blue  shirt  repeating  to  me  Concepcion  de  Arguello  ! 
Their  strange  good  taste  and  refinement  under  that  rough 
exterior  —  even  their  tact  —  are  wonderful  to  me.  They 
are  'Kentucks '  and  '  Dick  Bullens'  with  twice  the  refine- 
ment and  tenderness  of  their  California  brethren.  .  .  . 

"  I  've  seen  but  one  [woman]  that  interested  me  —  an 


244  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

old  negro  wench.  She  was  talking  and  laughing  outside 
my  door  the  other  evening,  but  her  laugh  was  so  sweet 
and  unctuous  and  musical  —  so  full  of  breadth  and  good- 
ness that  I  went  outside  and  talked  to  her  while  she 
was  scrubbing  the  stones.  She  laughed  as  a  canary  bird 
sings  —  because  she  could  n't  help  it.  It  did  me  a  world 
of  good,  for  it  was  before  the  lecture,  at  twilight,  when 
I  am  very  blue  and  low-tuned.  She  had  been  a  slave. 

"  I  expected  to  have  heard  from  you  here.  I  've  no- 
thing from  you  or  Eliza  since  last  Friday,  when  I  got 
yours  of  the  12th.  I  shall  direct  this  to  Eliza's  care,  as  I 
do  not  even  know  where  you  are.     Your  affectionate 

Frank."  ^ 

The  same  lecture  was  delivered  in  London,  England, 
in  January,  1879,  and  in  June,  1880.  Bret  Harte's  only 
other  lecture  had  for  its  subject  American  Humor,  and 
was  delivered  in  Chicago  on  October  10,  1874,  and  in 
New  York  on  January  26,  1875.^  The  money  return 
from  these  lectures  was  slight,  and  the  fatigue  and  ex- 
posure of  the  long  journeys  in  the  West  had,  his  rela- 
tives think,  a  permanently  bad  effect  upon  Bret  Harte's 
health. 

In  the  Autumn  of  1875  we  find  him  at  Lenox,  in  the 
Berkshire  Hills  of  Western  Massachusetts.  Lenox  has 
its  place  in  literature,  for  Hawthorne  spent  a  year  there, 
and  in  adjoining  towns  once  lived  O.  W.  Holmes,  Cathe- 
rine Sedgwick,  Herman  Melville,  and  G.  P.  R.  James. 

Gabriel  Conroy,  Bret  Harte's  only  novel,  and  on  the 
whole,  it  must  be  admitted,  a  failure,  though  containing 
many  exquisite  passages,  was  published  in  "  Scribner's 
Magazine"  in  1876. 

The  poems  and  stories  which  Bret  Harte  wrote  during 

1  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  pp.  137-142. 

2  These  lectures,  with  a  short  address  delivered  in  London,  have  recently 
been  published  in  a  volume  entitled  «'  The  Lectures  of  Bret  Harte,"  by 
Charles  Meeker  Kozlay,  New  York. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  245 

his  seven  years'  residence  in  the  Eastern  part  of  the 
United  States  did  not  deal  with  the  human  life  of  that 
time  and  place.  They  either  concerned  the  past,  like 
Thankful  Blossom  and  the  Newport  poems,  or  they 
harked  back  to  California,  like  Gabriel  Conroy  and  the 
stories  published  in  the  "  Atlantic."  The  only  exceptions 
are  the  short  and  pathetic  tale  called  The  Office-Seeker, 
and  the  opening  chapter  of  that  powerful  story.  The 
Argonauts  of  North  Liberty.  North  Liberty  is  a  small 
town  in  Connecticut,  and  the  scene  is  quickly  trans- 
ferred from  there  to  California  ;  but  Joan,  the  Connecti- 
cut woman,  remains  the  chief  figure  in  the  story. 

It  is  seldom  that  Bret  Harte  fails  to  show  some  sym- 
pathy with  the  men  and  women  whom  he  describes,  or  at 
least  some  relenting  consciousness  that  they  could  not 
help  being  what  they  were.  But  it  is  otherwise  with 
Joan.  She  and  her  surroundings  had  a  fascination  for 
Bret  Harte  that  was  almost  morbid.  The  man  or  woman 
whom  we  hate  becomes  an  object  of  interest  to  us  nearly 
as  much  as  the  person  whom  we  love.  An  acute  critic 
declares  that  Thackeray's  wonderful  insight  into  the 
characters  and  feelings  of  servants  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
he  had  almost  a  horror  of  them,  and  was  abnormally 
sensitive  to  their  criticisms,  —  the  more  felt  for  being  un- 
spoken. So  Joan  represents  what  Bret  Harte  hated  more 
than  anything  else  in  the  world,  namely,  a  narrow,  cen- 
sorious, hypocritical,  cold-blooded  Puritanism.  Her  char- 
acter is  not  that  of  a  typical  New  England  woman ;  its 
counterpart  would  much  more  easily  be  found  among 
the  men  ;  but  it  is  a  perfectly  consistent  character,  most 
accurately  worked  out.  Joan  combines  a  prim,  provincial, 
horsehair-sofa  respectability  with  a  lawless  and  sensual 
nature,  —  an  odd  combination,  and  yet  not  an  impossible 
one.  She  might,  perhaps,  be  called  the  female  of  that 
species  which  Hawthorne  immortalized  under  the  name 
of  Judge  Pyncheon. 


246  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Joan  is  a  puzzle  to  the  reader,  but  so  she  was  to  those 
who  knew  her.  Was  she  a  conscious  hypocrite,  deliber- 
ately playing  a  false  part  in  the  world,  or  was  she  a 
monstrous  egotist,  one  in  whom  the  soul  of  truth  had 
so  died  out  that  she  thought  herself  justified  in  every- 
thing that  she  did,  and  committed  the  worst  acts  from 
what  she  supposed  to  be  the  most  excusable  motives  ? 
Her  intimates  did  not  know.  One  of  the  finest  strokes 
in  the  story  is  the  dawning  of  suspicion  upon  the  mind 
of  her  second  husband.  "  For  with  all  his  deep  affection 
for  his  wife,  Richard  Demorest  unconsciously  feared 
her.  The  strong  man  whose  dominance  over  men  and 
women  alike  had  been  his  salient  characteristic,  had 
begun  to  feel  an  indefinable  sense  of  some  unrecognized 
quality  in  the  woman  he  loved.  He  had  once  or  twice 
detected  it  in  a  tone  of  her  voice,  in  a  remembered  and 
perhaps  even  once  idolized  gesture,  or  in  the  accidental 
lapse  of  some  bewildering  word." 

New  England  people  at  their  best  did  not  attract  Bret 
Harte.  That  Miltonic  conception  of  the  universe  upon 
which  New  England  was  built  seemed  to  him  simply 
ridiculous,  and  he  did  not  appreciate  the  strength  of 
character  in  which  it  resulted.  Moreover,  the  crudity 
of  New  England  offended  his  aesthetic  taste  as  much  as 
its  theology  offended  his  reason  and  his  charity.  North 
Liberty  on  a  cold,  stormy  Sunday  night  in  March  is 
described  with  that  gusto,  with  that  minuteness  of  detail 
which  could  be  shown  only  by  one  who  loved  it  or  by 
one  who  hated  it. 

And  yet  it  would  be  unjust  to  say  that  Bret  Harte 
had  no  conception  of  the  better  type  of  New  England 
women.  The  schoolmistress  in  The  Idyl  of  Red  Gulchy 
one  of  his  earliest  and  best  stories,  is  as  pure  and  noble 
a  maiden,  and  as  characteristic  of  the  soil,  as  Hilda  her- 
self. The  Reader  will  remember  the  description  of  Miss 
Mary  as  she  appeared  playing  with  her  pupils  in  the 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  247 

woods.  "  The  color  came  faintly  into  her  pale  cheeks. 
.  .  .  Felinely  fastidious  and  entrenched  as  she  was  in 
the  purity  of  spotless  skirts,  collars  and  cuffs,  she  for- 
got all  else,  and  ran  like  a  crested  quail  at  the  head  of 
her  brood,  until  romping,  laughing  and  panting,  with  a 
loosened  braid  of  brown  hair,  a  hat  hanging  by  a  knotted 
ribbon  from  her  throat,  she  came  .  .  •/'  upon  Sandy, 
the  unheroic  hero  of  the  tale. 

In  the  culminating  scene  of  this  story,  the  interview 
between  Miss  Mary  and  the  mother  of  Sandy's  illegiti- 
mate boy,  when  the  teacher  consents  to  take  the  child 
with  her  to  her  home  in  the  East,  although  she  is  still 
under  the  shock  of  the  discovery  that  Sandy  is  the  boy's 
father,  —  in  this  scene  the  schoolmistress  exhibits  true 
New  England  restraint,  and  a  beautiful  absence  of 
heroics.  It  was  just  at  sunset.  "The  last  red  beam 
crept  higher,  suffused  Miss  Mary's  eyes  with  something 
of  its  glory,  flickered  and  faded  and  went  out.  The  sun 
had  set  in  Red  Gulch.  In  the  twilight  and  silence  Miss 
Mary's  voice  sounded  pleasantly,  *  I  will  take  the  boy. 
Send  him  to  me  to-night.' " 

One  can  hardly  help  speculating  about  Bret  Harte's 
personal  taste  and  preferences  in  regard  to  women. 
Cressy  and  the  Rose  of  Tuolumne  were  both  blondes ; 
and  yet  on  the  whole  he  certainly  preferred  brunettes. 
Even  his  blue-eyed  girls  usually  have  black  hair.  The 
Treasure  of  the  Redwoods  disclosed  from  the  recesses 
of  her  sunbonnet  "a  pale  blue  eye  and  a  thin  black  arch 
of  eyebrow."  One  associates  a  contralto  voice  with  a 
brunette,  and  Bret  Harte's  heroines,  so  far  as  the  sub- 
ject is  mentioned,  have  contralto  voices.  Not  one  is 
spoken  of  as  having  a  soprano  voice.  Even  the  slight  and 
blue-eyed  Tinka  Gallinger  "sang  in  a  youthful,  rather 
nasal  contralto."  Bret  Harte's  wife  had  a  contralto  voice 
and  was  a  good  singer. 

As  to  eyes,  he  seems  to  have  preferred  them  gray 


248  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

or  brown,  a  "tender  gray"  and  a  "reddish  brown."  Ailsa 
Callender's  hair  was  "dark  with  a  burnished  copper  tint 
at  its  roots,  and  her  eyes  had  the  same  burnished  metal- 
lic lustre  in  their  brown  pupils."  Mrs.  MacGlowrie  was 
"a  fair-faced  woman  with  eyes  the  color  of  pale  sherry." 

A  small  foot  with  an  arched  instep  was  a  sine  qua  non 
with  Bret  Harte,  and  he  speaks  particularly  of  the  small, 
well-shod  foot  of  the  Southwestern  girl.  He  believed  in 
breeding,  and  all  his  heroines  were  well-bred,  —  not  well- 
bred  in  the  conventional  sense,  but  in  the  sense  of  com- 
ing from  sound,  courageous,  self-respecting,  self-improv- 
ing stock.  Within  these  limits  his  range  of  heroines  is 
exceedingly  wide,  including  some  that  are  often  excluded 
from  that  category.  He  is  rather  partial  to  widows,  for 
example,  and  always  looks  upon  their  innocent  gayeties 
with  an  indulgent  eye.  Can  a  woman  be  a  widow  and  untidy 
in  her  dress,  and  still  retain  her  preeminence  as  heroine .'' 
Yes,  Bret  Harte's  genius  is  equal  even  to  that.  "Mrs. 
MacGlowrie  was  looking  wearily  over  some  accounts  on 
the  desk  before  her,  and  absently  putting  back  some 
tumbled  sheaves  from  the  shock  of  her  heavy  hair.  For 
the  widow  had  a  certain  indolent  Southern  negligence, 
which  in  a  less  pretty  woman  would  have  been  untidiness, 
and  a  characteristic  hook-and-eye-less  freedom  of  attire, 
which  on  less  graceful  limbs  would  have  been  slovenly. 
One  sleeve-cuif  was  unbuttoned,  but  it  showed  the  vein  of 
her  delicate  wrist ;  the  neck  of  her  dress  had  lost  a  hook, 
but  the  glimpse  of  a  bit  of  edging  round  the  white  throat 
made  amends.  Of  all  which,  however,  it  should  be  said 
that  the  widow,  in  her  limp  abstraction,  was  really  un- 
conscious." 

Red-haired  women  have  been  so  popular  in  fiction 
during  recent  years  that  it  was  perhaps  no  great  feat  for 
Bret  Harte  in  the  Bmkeye  Hollozv  Inheritance  to  make 
a  heroine  out  of  a  red-haired  girl,  and  a  bad-tempered  one 
too ;  but  what  other  romancer  has  ever  dared  to  repre- 


Denman  Fink,  del. 

I   THOUGHT  YOU  WERE   THAT   HORSE-THIEF 
From  "  Lanty  Foster's  Mistake  " 


BRET  HARTE  IN  THE  EAST  249 

sent  a  young  and  lovely  woman  as  "hard  of  hearing"! 
There  can  be  no  question  that  The  Youngest  Miss  Piper 
was  not  quite  normal  in  this  respect,  although,  for  pur- 
poses of  coquetry  and  sarcasm  no  doubt,  she  magnified 
the  defect.  In  her  memorable  interview  with  the  clever 
young  grocery  clerk  (whom  she  afterward  married)  she 
begins  by  failing  to  hear  distinctly  the  title  of  the  book 
which  he  was  reading  when  she  entered  the  store ;  and 
we  have  this  picture :  "  Miss  Delaware,  leaning  sideways 
and  curling  her  little  fingers  around  her  pink  ear :  *  Did 
you  say  the  first  principles  of  geology  or  politeness  ?  You 
know  I  am  so  deaf;  but  of  course  it  couldn't  be  that.'  " 

The  one  kind  of  woman  that  did  not  attract  Bret  Harte 
as  a  subject  for  literature  was  the  conventional  woman  of 
the  world.  He  could  draw  her  fairly  well,  for  we  have  Amy 
Forester  in  A  Night  on  the  Divide^  Jessie  Mayfield  in 
Jeff  Briggs's  Love  Story^  Grace  Nevil  in  A  Mcecenas  of 
the  Pacific  Slope  ^  Mrs.  Ash  wood  in  A  First  Family  of 
Tasajara,  and  Mrs.  Horncastle  in  Three  Partners.  But 
these  women  do  not  bear  the  stamp  of  Bret  Harte's 
genius. 

His  Army  and  Navy  girls  are  better,  because  they  are 
redeemed  from  commonplaceness  by  their  patriotism. 
Miss  Portfire  in  The  Princess  Bob  and  her  Friends,  and 
Julia  Cantire  in  Dick  Boyle  s  Business  Cardy  represent 
those  American  families,  more  numerous  than  might  be 
supposed,  in  which  it  is  almost  an  hereditary  custom 
for  the  men  to  serve  in  the  Army  or  Navy,  and  for  the 
women  to  become  the  wives  and  mothers  of  soldiers  and 
sailors.  In  such  families  patriotism  is  a  constant  inspira- 
tion, to  a  degree  seldom  felt  except  by  those  who  repre- 
sent their  country  at  home  or  abroad. 

Bret  Harte  was  patriotic,  as  many  of  his  poems  and 
stories  attest,  and  his  long  residence  in  England  did  not 
lessen  his  Americanism.  "Apostates"  was  his  name  for 
those  American  girls  who  marry  titled  foreigners,  and 


2SO  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

he  often  speaks  of  the  susceptibility  of  American  women 
to  considerations  of  rank  and  position.  In  A  Rose  of 
Glenbogie,  after  describing  the  male  guests  at  a  Scotch 
country  house,  he  continues :  "  There  were  the  usual 
half-dozen  smartly-frocked  women  who,  far  from  being 
the  females  of  the  foregoing  species,  were  quite  indis- 
tinctive, with  the  single  exception  of  an  American  wife, 
who  was  infinitely  more  Scotch  than  her  Scotch  hus- 
band." And  in  The  Heir  of  the  McHulishes  the  Amer- 
ican Consul  is  represented  as  being  less  chagrined  by 
the  bumptiousness  of  his  male  compatriots  than  by 
"the  snobbishness  and  almost  servile  adaptability  of  the 
women.  Or  was  it  possible  that  it  was  only  a  weakness 
of  the  sex  which  no  Republican  nativity  or  education 
could  eliminate  ? " 


CHAPTER  XV 

BRET   HARTE   AT   CREFELD 

The  sums  that  Bret  Harte  received  for  his  stories  and 
lectures  did  not  suffice  to  free  him  from  debt,  and  he  suf- 
fered much  anxiety  and  distress  from  present  difficulties, 
with  no  brighter  prospects  ahead.  An  additional  misfortune 
was  the  failure  of  a  new  paper  called  "  The  Capital," 
which  had  been  started  in  Washington  by  John  J.  Piatt. 
There  is  an  allusion  to  this  in  a  letter  written  by  Bret 
Harte  to  his  wife  from  Washington.^  "  Thank  you,  dear 
Nan,  for  your  kind,  hopeful  letter.  I  have  been  very  sick, 
very  much  disappointed  ;  but  I  'm  better  now,  and  am 
only  waiting  for  some  money  to  return.  I  should  have, 
for  the  work  that  I  have  done,  more  than  would  help  us 
out  of  our  difficulties.  But  it  does  n't  come,  and  even  the 
money  I  've  expected  from  the  *  Capital '  for  my  story 
is  seized  by  its  creditors.  That  hope  and  the  expectations 
I  had  from  the  paper  and  Piatt  in  the  future  amount  to 
nothing.  I  have  found  that  it  is  bankrupt. 

**  Can  you  wonder,  Nan,  that  I  have  kept  this  from 
you  ?  You  have  so  hard  a  time  of  it  there,  and  I  cannot 
bear  to  have  you  worried  if  there  is  the  least  hope  of  a 
change  in  my  affairs  as  they  look,  day  by  day.  Piatt  has 
been  gone  nearly  a  month,  was  expected  to  return  every 
day,  and  only  yesterday  did  I  know  positively  of  his  in- 
ability to  fulfil  his  promises.  came  here  three  days 

ago,  and  in  a  very  few  moments  I  learned  from  him  that  I 
need  expect  nothing  for  the  particular  service  I  had  done 
him.  I  've  been  vilified  and  abused  in  the  papers  for  hav- 

1  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  145. 


252  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ing  received  compensation  for  my  services,  when  really 
and  truly  I  have  only  received  less  than  I  should  have 
got  from  any  magazine  or  newspaper  for  my  story.  I  sent 

you  the  fifty  dollars  by  Mr.  D ,  because  I  knew  you 

would  be  in  immediate  need,  and  there  is  no  telegraph 
transfer  office  on  Long  Island.  It  was  the  only  fifty  I 
have  made  since  I  've  been  here. 

"  I  am  waiting  to  hear  from  Osgood  regarding  an  ad- 
vance on  that  wretched  story.  He  writes  me  he  does  not 
quite  like  it.  I  shall  probably  hear  from  him  to-night. 
When  the  money  comes  I  shall  come  with  it.  God  bless 
you  and  keep  you  and  the  children  safe  for  the  sake  of 

"Frank." 

Bret  Harte*s  friends,  however,  were  aware  of  his  situ- 
ation, and  they  procured  for  him  an  appointment  by  Pre- 
sident Hayes  as  United  States  Commercial  Agent  at 
Crefeld  in  Prussia.  The  late  Charles  A.  Dana  was  es- 
pecially active  in  this  behalf.  Bret  Harte,  much  as  he 
dreaded  the  sojourn  in  a  strange  country,  gladly  accepted 
the  appointment,  and  leaving  his  family  for  the  present 
at  Sea  Cliff,  Long  Island,  he  sailed  for  England  in  June, 
1878,  little  thinking  that  he  was  never  to  return. 

Crefeld  is  near  the  river  Rhine,  about  thirty  miles  north 
of  Cologne.  Its  chief  industry  is  the  manufacture  of  silks 
and  velvets,  in  respect  to  which  it  is  the  leading  city  in 
Germany,  and  is  surpassed  by  no  other  place  in  Europe 
except  Lyons.  This  industry  was  introduced  in  Crefeld  by 
Protestant  refugees  who  fled  thither  from  Cologne  in  the 
seventeenth  century  in  order  to  obtain  the  protection  of 
the  Prince  of  Orange.  A  small  suburb  of  Philadelphia  was 
settled  mainly  by  emigrants  from  Crefeld,  and  bears  the 
same  name. 

The  Prussian  Crefeld  is  a  clean,  spacious  place,  with 
wide  streets,  substantial  houses,  and  all  the  appearance 
of  a  Dutch  town.  At  this  time  it  contained  about  seventy- 


BRET  HARTE  AT  CREFELD       253 

five  thousand  inhabitants.  Bret  Harte  arrived  at  Crefeld 
on  the  morning  of  July  17,  1878,  after  a  sleepless  journey 
of  twelve  hours  from  Paris,  and  on  the  same  day  he  wrote 
to  his  wife  a  very  homesick  letter. 

"  I  have  audaciously  travelled  alone  nearly  four  hundred 
miles  through  an  utterly  foreign  country  on  one  or  two 
little  French  and  German  phrases,  and  a  very  small  stock 
of  assurance,  and  have  delivered  my  letters  to  my  pred- 
ecessor, and  shall  take  possession  of  the  Consulate  to- 
morrow.   Mr. ,  the  present  incumbent,  appears  to 

me  —  I  do  not  know  how  I  shall  modify  my  impression 
hereafter — as  a  very  narrow,  mean,  ill-bred,  and  not  over- 
bright  Puritanical  German.  It  was  my  intention  to  ap- 
point him  my  vice-Consul  —  an  act  of  courtesy  suggested 
both  by  my  own  sense  of  right  and  Mr.  Leonard's  ad- 
vice, but  he  does  not  seem  to  deserve  it,  and  has  even 
received  my  suggestion  of  it  with  the  suspicion  of  a  mean 
nature.  But  at  present  I  fear  I  may  have  to  do  it,  for  I 
know  no  one  else  here.  I  am  to  all  appearance  utterly 
friendless  ;  I  have  not  received  the  first  act  of  kindness 
or  courtesy  from  any  one,  and  I  suppose  this  man  sees 
it.  I  shall  go  to  Bavaria  to-morrow  to  see  the  Consul 
there,  who  held  this  place  as  one  of  his  dependencies, 
and  try  to  make  matters  straight."  ^ 

This  letter  shows  that  the  craving  for  sympathy  and 
companionship,  which  is  associated  with  artistic  natures, 
was  intensely  felt  by  Bret  Harte,  more  so,  perhaps, 
than  would  have  been  expected  in  a  man  of  his  self-reli- 
ant character.  His  despondent  tone  is  almost  child-like. 
The  letter  goes  on  :  "  It  *s  been  up-hill  work  ever  since 
I  left  New  York,  but  I  shall  try  to  see  it  through,  please 
God !  I  don't  allow  myself  to  think  over  it  at  all,  or  I 
should  go  crazy.  I  shut  my  eyes  to  it,  and  in  doing  so 
perhaps  I  shut  out  what  is  often  so  pleasant  to  a  travel- 
ler's first  impressions  ;  but  thus  far  London  has  only 

1  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  pp.  168-170. 


254  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

seemed  to  me  a  sluggish  nightmare  through  which  I 
have  waked,  and  Paris  a  confused  sort  of  hysterical  ex- 
perience. I  had  hoped  for  a  little  kindness  and  rest 
here.  ...  At  least,  Nan,  be  sure  I  've  written  now  the 
worst ;  I  think  things  must  be  better  soon.  I  shall, 
please  God,  make  some  friends  in  good  time,  and  will 
try  and  be  patient.  But  I  shall  not  think  of  sending  for 
you  until  I  see  clearly  that  I  can  stay  myself.  If  the 
worst  comes  to  the  worst  I  shall  try  to  stand  it  for  a  year, 
and  save  enough  to  come  home  and  begin  anew  there. 
But  I  could  not  stand  it  to  see  you  break  your  heart 
here  through  disappointment,  as  I  mayhap  may  do." 

The  tone  of  this  letter  is  so  exaggerated  that  it  might 
seem  as  if  Bret  Harte  had  been  a  httle  theatrical  and 
insincere,  —  that  he  had  endeavored  to  create  an  impres- 
sion which  was  partly  false.  But  such  a  conjecture  would 
be  erroneous,  for  under  the  same  date,  with  the  addition 
of  the  word  "midnight,"  we  find  him  writing  a  second 
letter  to  correct  the  effect  of  the  first,  as  follows  :  — 

"  My  dear  Nan,  —  I  wrote  and  mailed  you  a  letter 
this  afternoon  that  I  fear  was  rather  disconsolate,  so  I 
sit  down  to-night  to  send  another,  which  I  hope  will 
take  a  little  of  the  blues  out  of  the  first.  Since  I  wrote  I 
have  had  some  further  conversation  with  my  predecessor, 

Mr. ,  and  I  think  I  can  manage  matters  with  him. 

He  has  hauled  in  his  horns  considerably  since  I  told  him 
that  the  position  I  offered  him  —  so  far  as  the  honor  of 
it  went  —  was  better  than  the  one  he  held.  For  the  one 
thing  pleasant  about  my  office  is  that  the  dignity  of  it  has 
been  raised  on  my  account.  It  was  only  a  dependence 
—  a  Consular  Agency — before  it  was  offered  to  me.^ 

"I  feel  a  little  more  hopeful,  too,  for  I  have  been 
taken  out  to  a  *fest' — or  a  festival  —  of  one  of  the  vint- 
ners, and  one  or  two  of  the  people  were  a  little  kind.  I 

^  It  was  now  a  Commercial  Agency,  the  grade  next  below  that  of  a 
Consulship. 


BRET  HARTE  AT  CREFELD      255 

forced  myself  to  go ;  these  German  festivals  are  distaste- 
ful to  me,  and  I  did  not  care  to  show  my  ignorance  of 
their  language  quite  so  prominently,  but  I  thought  it 
was  the  proper  thing  for  me  to  do.  It  was  a  very  queer 
sight.  About  five  hundred  people  were  in  an  artificial 
garden  beside  an  artificial  lake,  looking  at  artificial  fire- 
works, and  yet  as  thoroughly  enjoying  it  as  if  they  were 
children.  Of  course  there  were  beer  and  wine.  Here  as 
in  Paris  everybody  drinks,  and  all  the  time,  and  nobody 
gets  drunk.  Beer,  beer,  beer ;  and  meals,  meals,  meals. 
Everywhere  the  body  is  worshipped.  Beside  them  we 
are  but  unsubstantial  spirits.  I  write  this  in  my  hotel, 
having  had  to  pass  through  a  mysterious  gate  and  so 
into  a  side  courtyard  and  up  a  pair  of  labyrinthine  stairs, 
to  my  dim  *Zimmer'  or  chamber.  The  whole  scene,  as 
I  returned  to-night,  looked  as  it  does  on  the  stage,  —  the 
lantern  over  the  iron  gate,  the  inn  strutting  out  into  the 
street  with  a  sidewalk  not  a  foot  wide.  I  know  now  from 
my  own  observation,  both  here  and  in  Paris  and  London, 
where  the  scene-painters  at  the  theatres  get  their  sub- 
jects. Those  impossible  houses — those  unreal  silent 
streets  all  exist  in  Europe." 

On  one  of  those  first,  melancholy  days  at  Crefeld,  the 
new  Consul,  walking  listlessly  along  the  main  street  of 
the  town,  happened  to  throw  a  passing  glance  at  the 
window  of  a  bookseller's  shop,  and  there  he  saw  on  the 
back  of  a  neat  little  volume  the  familiar  words  "Bret 
Harte."  It  was  a  German  translation  of  his  stories,  and 
it  is  easy  to  imagine  how  the  sight  refreshed  and  com- 
forted the  homesick  exile.  After  that,  he  felt  that  to 
some  extent,  at  least,  he  was  living  among  friends. 
Translations  of  Bret  Harte's  poems  and  stories  had  ap- 
peared before  this  in  German  magazines,  and  later  his 
stories  were  reproduced  in  Germany,  in  book  form,  as 
fast  as  they  were  published  in  England.  In  fact,  his 


2S6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

books  have  been  printed  in  every  language  of  Europe, 
and  translations  of  his  stories  have  appeared  in  the 
"  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,"  in  the  "  Moscow  Gazette," 
and  in  periodicals  of  Italy,  Spain,  Portugal,  Denmark 
and  Sweden.  In  1878  a  translation  of  six  of  Bret  Harte's 
tales  was  published  in  the  Servian  language,  with  an 
enthusiastic  preface  in  German,  by  the  translator,  Ivan 
B.  Popovitch. 

The  impression  that  Bret  Harte  received  from  Europe, 
—  and  it  is  the  one  that  every  uncontaminated  Ameri- 
can must  receive, —  m.ay  be  gathered  from  a  letter  writ- 
ten by  him  to  his  younger  son,  then  a  small  boy :  "  We 
drove  out  the  other  day  through  a  lovely  road,  bordered 
with  fine  poplar  trees,  and  more  like  a  garden  walk  than 
a  country  road,  to  the  Rhine,  which  is  but  two  miles 
and  a  half  from  this  place.  The  road  had  been  built  by 
Napoleon  the  First  when  he  was  victorious  everywhere, 
and  went  straight  on  through  everybody's  property,  and 
even  over  their  dead  bones.  Suddenly  to  the  right  we 
saw  the  ruins  of  an  old  castle,  vine-clad  and  crumbling, 
exactly  like  a  scene  on  the  stage.  It  was  all  very  wonder- 
ful. But  Papa  thought,  after  all,  he  was  glad  his  boys 
live  in  a  country  that  is  as  yet  quite  pure,  and  szveet 
and  good;  not  in  one  where  every  field  seems  to  cry  out 
with  the  remembrance  of  bloodshed  and  wrong,  and 
where  so  many  people  have  lived  and  suffered,  that  to- 
night, under  this  clear  moon,  their  very  ghosts  seemed 
to  throng  the  road  and  dispute  our  right  of  way.  Be 
thankful,  my  dear  boy,  that  you  are  an  American.  Papa 
was  never  so  fond  of  his  country  before,  as  in  this  land 
that  has  been  so  great,  so  powerful,  and  so  very,  very 
hard  and  wicked."  ^ 

Bret  Harte,  though  disclaiming  any  knowledge  of 
music,  had  a  real  appreciation  of  it,  and  wrote  as  follows 
to  his  wife  who  was  a  connoisseur :  "  I  have  been  several 

1  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  173. 


BRET  HARTE  AT  CREFELD  257 

times  to  the  opera  at  Dusseldorf,  and  I  have  been  hesi- 
tating whether  I  should  slowly  prepare  you  for  a  great 
shock  or  tell  you  at  once  that  musical  Germany  is  a 
humbug.  My  first  operatic  experience  was  *Tannhauser.' 
I  can  see  your  superior  smile,  Anna,  at  this  ;  and  I 
know  how  you  will  take  my  criticism  of  Wagner,  so  I 
don't  mind  saying  plainly,  that  it  was  the  most  dia- 
bolically hideous  and  stupidly  monotonous  performance 
I  ever  heard.  I  shall  say  nothing  about  the  orchestral 
harmonies,  for  there  was  n't  anything  going  on  of  that 
kind,  unless  you  call  something  that  seemed  like  a 
boiler  factory  at  work  in  the  next  street,  and  the  wind 
whistling  through  the  rigging  of  a  channel  steamer,  har- 
mony. .  .  .  But  what  I  wanted  to  say  was  that  even 
my  poor  uneducated  ear  detected  bad  instrumentation 
and  worse  singing  in  the  choruses.  I  confided  this  much 
to  a  friend,  and  he  said  very  frankly  that  I  was  probably 
right,  that  the  best  musicians  and  choruses  went  to 
America.  .  .  . 

"Then  I  was  awfully  disappointed  in  *  Faust,*  or,  as  it 
is  known  here  in  the  playbills,  *  Marguerite.'  You  know 
how  I  love  that  delicious  idyl  of  Gounod's,  and  I  was  in 
my  seat  that  night  long  before  the  curtain  went  up.  Be- 
fore the  first  act  was  over  I  felt  like  leaving,  and  yet  I 
was  glad  I  stayed.  For  although  the  chorus  of  villagers 
was  frightful,  and  Faust  and  Mephistopheles  spouted  and 
declaimed  blank  verse  at  each  other — whole  pages  of 
Goethe,  yet  the  acting  was  superb.  I  have  never  seen 
such  a  Marguerite.  But  think  of  my  coming  to  Germany 
to  hear  opera  badly  sung,  and  magnificently  acted !  "  ^ 

Having  put  the  affairs  of  the  Consular  office  upon  a 
proper  footing,  Bret  Harte  returned  to  England  about 
the  middle  of  August  for  a  short  vacation,  which  proved, 
however,  to  be  a  rather  long  one.  His  particular  object 
was  a  visit  to  James  Anthony  Froude  at  his  house  in 
»  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  186. 


258  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Devonshire.  Bret  Harte  had  a  great  admiration  for 
Froude's  writings;  and  when  the  two  men  met  they 
formed  a  friendship  which  was  severed  only  by  death. 

From  Froude's  home  Bret  Harte  wrote  to  his  wife  as 
follows :  "  Imagine,  if  you  can,  something  between 
*  Locksley  Hall,'  and  the  High  Walled  Garden,  where 
Maud  used  to  walk,  and  you  have  some  idea  of  this  grace- 
ful English  home.  I  look  from  my  windows  down  upon  ex- 
quisite lawns  and  terraces,  all  sloping  toward  the  sea  wall, 
and  then  down  upon  the  blue  sea  below.  ...  I  walk  out 
in  the  long,  high  garden,  past  walls  hanging  with  netted 
peaches  and  apricots,  past  terraces  looking  over  the  ruins 
of  an  old  feudal  castle,  and  I  can  scarcely  believe  I  am 
not  reading  an  English  novel  or  that  I  am  not  myself  a 
wandering  ghost.  To  heighten  the  absurdity,  when  I  re- 
turn to  my  room  I  am  confronted  by  the  inscription  on 
the  door,  *  Lord  Devon'  (for  this  is  the  property  of  the 
Earl  of  Devon,  and  I  occupy  his  favourite  room),  and  I 
seem  to  have  died  and  to  be  resting  under  a  gilded 
mausoleum  that  lies  even  more  than  the  average  tomb- 
stone does.  Froude  is  a  connection  of  the  Earl's,  and  has 
hired  the  house  for  the  Summer. 

"  But  Froude  —  dear  old  noble  fellow  —  is  splendid.  I 
love  him  more  than  I  ever  did  in  America.  He  is  great, 
broad,  manly,  — democratic  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word, 
scorning  all  sycophancy  and  meanness,  accepting  all 
that  is  around  him,  yet  more  proud  of  his  literary  pro- 
fession than  of  his  kinship  with  these  people  whom  he 
quietly  controls.  There  are  only  a  few  literary'  men  like 
him  here,  but  they  are  kings.  So  far  I  've  avoided  seeing 
any  company  here ;  but  Froude  and  I  walk  and  walk,  and 
talk  and  talk.  They  let  me  do  as  I  want,  and  I  have  not 
been  well  enough  yet  to  do  aught  but  lounge.  The  doc- 
tor is  coming  to  see  me  to-day,  and  if  I  am  no  better  I  shall 
return  in  a  day  or  two  to  London,  and  then  to  Crefeld."^ 

1  Pemberton's  '*  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  i8i. 


BRET  HARTE  AT  CREFELD      259 

Bret  Harte's  health  seems  at  all  times  to  have  been 
easily  upset,  and  he  was  particularly  subject  to  colds  and 
sore  throats.  This  letter  was  written  in  August,  but  it 
was  the  first  week  in  November  before  he  was  on  his 
way  back  to  Cref  eld.  While  in  London  he  had  arranged 
for  a  lecture  tour  in  England  during  the  next  January 
(1879),  ^^d  i^  t^^t  month  a  volume  of  his  stories  and 
poems  was  published  in  England  with  the  following  In- 
troduction by  the  author :  — 

"  In  offering  this  collection  of  sketches  to  the  English 
public,  the  author  is  conscious  of  attaching  an  importance 
to  them  that  may  not  be  shared  by  the  general  reader, 
but  which  he,  as  an  American  writer  on  English  soil, 
cannot  fail  to  feel  very  sensibly.  The  collection  is  made 
by  himself,  the  letter-press  revised  by  his  own  hand,  and 
he  feels  for  the  first  time  that  these  fugitive  children  of 
his  brain  are  no  longer  friendless  in  a  strange  land,  en- 
trusted to  the  care  of  a  foster-mother,  however  discreet, 
but  are  his  own  creations,  for  whose  presentation  to  the 
public  in  this  fashion  he  is  alone  responsible.  Three  or 
four  having  been  born  upon  English  soil  may  claim  the 
rights  of  citizenship,  but  the  others  he  must  leave  to  prove 
their  identity  with  English  literature  on  their  own  merits." 

The  lecture  on  the  Argonauts,  delivered  the  first  time 
at  the  Crystal  Palace,  was  very  well  received  both  by  the 
hearers  and  the  press  ;  but  financially  it  was  a  disappoint- 
ment. Bret  Harte  was  in  England  three  weeks,  lectured 
five  times,  and  made  only  two  hundred  dollars  over  and 
above  his  expenses. 

A  second  lecture  tour,  however,  carried  out  in  March 
of  the  same  year,  was  successful  in  every  way.  The  audi- 
ences were  enthusiastic,  and  the  payment  was  liberal. 

It  was  during  this  visit  to  England  that  Bret  Harte 
became  involved  in  a  characteristic  tangle.  He  had  re- 
ceived the  compliment  of  being  asked  to  respond  for 
Literature  at  the  Royal  Academy  banquet  in  1879,  ^^^' 


26o  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

with  his  constitutional  unwillingness  to  give  a  point-blank 
refusal,  had  promised  or  half-promised  to  be  present. 
Meanwhile,  he  had  returned  to  Crefeld,  and  the  prospect 
of  speaking  at  the  dinner  loomed  more  and  more  horrific 
in  his  imagination,  while  the  uncertainty  in  which  he  left 
the  matter  was  a  source  of  vexation  in  London.  Letters 
and  telegrams  from  his  friends  remained  unanswered, 
until  finally,  Sir  Frederic  Leighton,  the  President  of  the 
Academy,  sent  him  a  message,  the  reply  to  which  was 
prepaid,  saying,  "In  despair;  cannot  do  without  you. 
Please  telegraph  at  once  if  quite  impossible." 

This  at  last  drew  from  Bret  Harte  a  telegram  stating 
that  the  pressure  of  official  business  would  render  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  leave  Crefeld.  But  the  matter  was  not 
quite  ended  yet.  In  a  day  or  two  Bret  Harte  received  a 
letter  from  Froude,  good-naturedly  reminding  him  that 
a  note  as  well  as  a  telegram  was  due  to  Sir  Frederic 
Leighton.  "The  President  of  the  Royal  Academy,"  he 
wrote,  '*  is  a  sacred  person  with  the  state  and  honors  of  a 
sovereign  on  these  occasions."  And  after  some  further 
delay  Bret  Harte  did  write  to  Sir  Frederic,  and  received 
in  reply  the  following  polite  but  possibly  somewhat  iron- 
ical note :  "  Dear  Mr.  Bret  Harte,  —  It  was  most  kind  of 
you  to  write  to  me  after  your  telegram.  I  fully  under- 
stand the  impossibility  of  your  leaving  your  post,  and 
sincerely  regret  my  loss." 

A  year  later,  however,  in  1880,  Bret  Harte  answered 
the  toast  to  Literature  at  the  Royal  Academy  dinner, 
and  his  brief  speech  on  that  occasion  is  included  in  the 
volume  of  lectures  by  him  recently  published.^ 

In  October  of  this  year,  1879,  Bret  Harte  wrote  to 
Washington  stating  that  his  health  had  suffered  at  Cre- 
feld, and  requesting  leave  of  absence  for  sixty  days  in 
order  that  he  might  follow  the  advice  of  his  physician, 
and  seek  a  more  favorable  climate.  He  also  asked  for 

1  See  footnote  on  page  244,  supra. 


BRET  HARTE  AT  CREFELD      261 

a  reply  by  telegraph ;  and  in  the  same  letter  he  made 
application  for  a  better  Consular  position,  mentioning, 
as  one  reason  for  the  exchange,  that  the  business  of  the 
Agency  at  Crefeld  had  greatly  increased  during  his  ten- 
ure. His  request  for  leave  of  absence  was  immediately 
granted,  and  in  November  he  wrote  to  the  State  Depart- 
ment acknowledging  the  receipt  of  its  telegram  and  let- 
ter, but  adding,  "  Neither  my  affairs  nor  my  health 
have  enabled  me  yet  to  avail  myself  of  the  courtesy  ex- 
tended to  me  by  the  Department.  When  I  shall  be  able 
to  do  so,  I  shall,  agreeably  to  your  instructions,  promptly 
inform  you."  He  took  this  leave  of  absence  in  the  fol- 
lowing January  and  April. 

So  far  as  can  be  judged  from  his  communications  to 
the  State  Department,  Bret  Harte  discharged  the  duties 
of  the  Agency  in  a  very  business-like  manner.  For  one 
thing,  he  reduced  the  time  consumed  in  passing  upon 
invoices  of  goods  intended  for  exportation  to  the  United 
States  from  twenty-four  hours  to  three  hours,  greatly 
to  the  convenience  of  the  Crefeld  manufacturers.  The 
increase  in  the  value  of  the  silks  and  velvets  shipped  to 
this  country  during  Bret  Harte's  term  amounted  to  about 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  quarterly;  but  perhaps  the 
demands  of  trade  had  something  to  do  with  this. 

Two  of  the  reports  to  the  State  Department  from  our 
Agent  at  Crefeld  deserve  to  be  rescued  from  their  offi- 
cial oblivion.  The  first  is  dated,  October  8,  1879,  and  it 
accompanies  a  table  showing  the  rainfall,  snowfall,  and 
thunderstorms  occurring  in  the  district  from  July  i, 
1878,  to  June  30,  1879.  The  Agent  states  :  — 

"  The  table  is  compiled  from  the  observations  of  a  com- 
petent local  meteorologist.  In  mitigation  of  the  fact  that 
it  has  rained  in  this  district  in  the  ratio  of  every  other 
day  in  the  year,  it  may  be  stated  that  the  general  gloom 
has  been  diversified  and  monotony  relieved  by  twenty- 
nine  thunderstorms  and  one  earthquake." 


262  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

The  second  communication,  dated  October  lo,  1879, 
is  in  response  to  an  official  inquiry.  "  In  reference  to 
the  Department  Circular  dated  August  2j,  1879,  I  ^^^ve 
the  honor  to  report  that  upon  careful  inquiry  of  the 
local  authorities  of  this  district  I  find  that  there  is  not 
now  and  never  has  been  any  avowed  Mormon  emigra- 
tion from  Crefeld,  nor  any  emigration  of  people  likely 
to  become  converts  to  that  faith.  Its  name  as  well  as  its 
tenets  are  unknown  to  the  inhabitants,  and  only  to  offi- 
cials through  the  Department  Circular. 

"The  artisans  and  peasants  of  this  district  —  that 
class  from  which  the  Mormon  ranks  are  supposed  to  be 
recruited  —  are  hard-working,  thrifty,  and  home-loving. 
They  are  averse  to  emigration  for  any  purpose,  and  as 
Catholics  to  any  new  revealed  religion.  A  prolific  house- 
hold with  one  wife  seems  to  exclude  any  polygamous  in- 
stinct in  the  manly  breast,  while  the  woman,  who  works 
equally  with  her  husband,  evinces  no  desire  to  share  any 
division  of  the  affections  or  the  profits.  The  like  may  be 
predicated  of  the  manufacturers,  with  the  added  sugges- 
tion that  a  duty  of  60  per  cent  ad  valorem  by  engaging 
the  fullest  powers  of  the  intellect  in  its  evasion,  leaves 
little  room  for  the  play  of  the  lower  passions.  In  these 
circumstances  I  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  report  to  the 
Legation  at  Berlin." 

The  literary  product  of  Bret  Harte's  two  years  at  Cre- 
feld was  A  Legend  of  Sammtstadt^  in  which  there  is  a 
pleasant  blending  of  the  romantic  and  the  humorous, 
The  Indiscretion  of  Elsbethy  the  Views  from  a  German 
Spiony  and  Unser  Karl.  Unser  Karly  however,  was  not 
written,  or  at  least  was  not  published,  until  several  years 
later. 

Perhaps  the  most  valuable  impression  which  Bret 
Harte  carried  away  from  Crefeld  was  that  of  the  Ger- 
man children.  Children  always  interested  him,  and  in 
Prussia  he  found  a  new  variety,  which  he  described  in 


BRET  HARTE  AT  CREFELD      263 

the  Views  from  a  German  Spion  :  "  The  picturesqueness 
of  Spanish  and  Italian  childhood  has  a  faint  suspicion  of 
the  pantomime  and  the  conscious  attitudinizing  of  the 
Latin  races.  German  children  are  not  exuberant  or  vola- 
tile ;  they  are  serious,  —  a  seriousness,  however,  not  to 
be  confounded  with  the  grave  reflectiveness  of  age,  but 
only  the  abstract  wonderment  of  childhood.  These  little 
creatures  I  meet  upon  the  street  —  whether  in  quaint 
wooden  shoes  and  short  woollen  petticoats,  or  neatly 
booted  and  furred,  with  school  knapsacks  jauntily  borne 
on  little  square  shoulders  —  all  carry  likewise  in  their 
round  chubby  faces  their  profound  wonderment  and  as- 
tonishment at  the  big  busy  world  into  which  they  have 
so  lately  strayed.  If  I  stop  to  speak  with  this  little  maid, 
who  scarcely  reaches  to  the  top-boots  of  yonder  cavalry 
officer,  there  is  less  of  bashful  self-consciousness  in  her 
sweet  little  face  than  of  grave  wonder  at  the  foreign 
accent  and  strange  ways  of  this  new  figure  obtruded 
upon  her  limited  horizon.  She  answers  honestly,  frankly, 
prettily,  but  gravely.  There  is  a  remote  possibility  that  I 
might  bite  ;  and  with  this  suspicion  plainly  indicated  in 
her  round  blue  eyes,  she  quietly  slips  her  little  red  hand 
from  mine,  and  moves  solemnly  away." 

The  Continental  practice  of  making  the  dog  a  beast  of 
burden  shocked  Bret  Harte,  as  it  must  shock  any  lover 
of  the  animal.  "  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  have  the  barba- 
rian's fondness  for  dogs,  and  for  their  lawless,  gentle, 
loving  uselessness  that  I  rebel  against  this  unnatural 
servitude.  It  seems  as  monstrous  as  if  a  child  were  put 
between  the  shafts  and  made  to  carry  burdens ;  and  I 
have  come  to  regard  those  men  and  women,  who  in  the 
weakest,  perfunctory  way  affect  to  aid  the  poor  brute 
by  laying  idle  hands  on  the  barrow  behind,  as  I  would 
unnatural  parents.  ...  I  fancy  the  dog  seems  to  feel 
the  monstrosity  of  the  performance,  and,  in  sheer  shame 
for  his  master,  forgivingly  tries  to  assume  it  is  play ; 


264  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

and  I  have  seen  a  little  collie  running  along,  barking 
and  endeavoring  to  leap  and  gambol  in  the  shafts,  be- 
fore a  load  that  any  one  out  of  this  locality  would  have 
thought  the  direst  cruelty.  Nor  do  the  older  or  more 
powerful  dogs  seem  to  become  accustomed  to  it." 

And  then  comes  an  example  of  that  extraordinary 
keenness  of  observation  with  which  Bret  Harte  was 
gifted :  —  "I  have  said  that  the  dog  was  generally  sin- 
cere in  his  efforts.  I  recall  but  one  instance  to  the  con- 
trary. I  remember  a  young  collie  who  first  attracted  my 
attention  by  his  persistent  barking.  Whether  he  did  this, 
as  the  plough-boy  whistled,  *for  want  of  thought,'  or 
whether  it  was  a  running  protest  against  his  occupation, 
I  could  not  determine,  until  one  day  I  noticed  that,  in 
barking,  he  slightly  threw  up  his  neck  and  shoulders, 
and  that  the  two-wheeled  barrow-like  vehicle  behind 
him,  having  its  weight  evenly  poised  on  the  wheels  by 
the  trucks  in  the  hands  of  its  driver,  enabled  him  by 
this  movement  to  cunningly  throw  the  centre  of  gravity 
and  the  greater  weight  on  the  man,  —  a  fact  which  the 
less  sagacious  brute  never  discerned.  ...  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  the  people  who  have  lost  this  gentle, 
sympathetic,  characteristic  figure  from  their  domestic  life 
and  surroundings  have  not  acquired  an  equal  gain 
through  his  harsh  labors.** 

Of  his  Consular  experiences  at  Crefeld  the  follow- 
ing is  the  only  one  which  found  its  way  into  literature : 
"The  Consul's  chief  duty  was  to  uphold  the  flag  of 
his  own  country  by  the  examination  and  certification  of 
divers  invoices  sent  to  his  oflfice  by  the  manufacturers. 
But,  oddly  enough,  these  messengers  were  chiefly  women, 
—  not  clerks,  but  ordinary  household  servants,  and  on 
busy  days  the  Consulate  might  have  been  mistaken  for 
a  female  registry  office,  so  filled  and  possessed  it  was  by 
waiting  Madchen.  Here  it  was  that  Gretchen,  Liebchen, 
and  Clarchen,  in  the  cleanest  of  gowns,  and  stoutly  but 


BRET  HARTE  AT  CREFELD      265 

smartly  shod,  brought  their  invoices  in  a  piece  of  clean 
paper,  or  folded  in  a  blue  handkerchief,  and  laid  them, 
with  fingers  more  or  less  worn  and  stubby  from  hard 
service,  before  the  Consul  for  his  signature.  Once,  in  the 
case  of  a  very  young  Madchen,  that  signature  was  blotted 
by  the  sweep  of  a  flaxen  braid  upon  it  as  the  child  turned 
to  go ;  but  generally  there  was  a  grave,  serious  business 
instinct  and  sense  of  responsibility  in  these  girls  of  ordi- 
nary peasant  origin,  which,  equally  with  their  sisters  of 
France,  were  unknown  to  the  English  or  American  woman 
of  any  class." 

Bret  Harte  remained  nearly  two  years  at  Crefeld,  but 
his  wife  did  not  join  him  there,  and,  so  far  as  the  world 
knows,  they  never  met  again.  In  May,  1880,  he  was 
transferred  to  the  much  more  lucrative  and  more  de- 
sirable Consulship  at  Glasgow.  It  was  one  of  the  last 
cases  in  which  government  bestowed  public  office  as  a 
reward  for  literary  excellence,  —  a  custom  so  hallowed 
by  age  and  association  that  every  lover  of  literature  will 
look  back  upon  it  with  fond  regret. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

BRET   HARTE   AT   GLASGOW 

After  a  month  in  London,  Bret  Harte  took  possession 
of  the  Consulate  at  Glasgow  in  July,  1880,  and  remained 
there  five  years.  His  annual  salary  was  three  thousand 
dollars. 

In  September  he  wrote  to  a  friend  :  "  As  I  am  try- 
ing to  get  up  a  good  reputation  here,  I  stay  at  my  post 
pretty  regularly,  occasionally  making  a  cheap  excursion. 
This  is  a  country  for  them.  The  other  day  I  went  to 
Staff  a.  It  was  really  the  only  *  sight '  in  Europe  that 
quite  filled  all  my  expectations.  But  alas  !  that  magnifi- 
cent, cathedral-like  cave  was  presently  filled  with  a  howl- 
ing party  of  sandwich-eating  tourists,  splashing  in  the 
water  and  climbing  up  the  rocks.  One  should  only  go 
there  alone,  or  with  some  sympathetic  spirit."^ 

How  far  the  Consul's  good  intentions  were  fulfilled 
it  is  difficult  to  say.  London  attracted  Bret  Harte  as  it 
attracts  everybody  of  Anglo-Saxon  descent.  That  vast  and 
sombre  metropolis  may  weary  the  body  and  vex  the  soul 
of  the  visitor,  but,  after  all,  it  remains  the  headquarters  of 
the  English-speaking  race,  and  the  American,  as  well  as 
the  Canadian  or  the  Australian,  returns  to  it  again  and 
again  with  a  vague  longing,  never  satisfied,  but  never  lost. 

Another  reason  for  the  absenteeism  of  the  Consul 
was  that  he  lectured  now  and  again  in  different  parts  of 
England,  and  that  he  paid  frequent  visits  to  country 
houses.  Mr.  Pemberton  quotes  a  letter  from  him  which 
contains  an  amusing  illustration  of  the  English  boy's 
sporting  spirit :  — 

*  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  p.  265. 


BRET  HARTE  AT  GLASGOW  267 

"  My  Dear  Pemberton,  —  Don't  be  alarmed  if  you 
should  hear  of  my  nearly  having  blown  the  top  of  my 
head  off.  Last  Monday  I  had  my  face  badly  cut  by  the 
recoil  of  an  overloaded  gun.  I  do  not  know  yet  beneath 
these  bandages  whether  I  shall  be  permanently  marked. 
At  present  I  am  invisible,  and  have  tried  to  keep  the 
accident  a  secret.  When  the  surgeon  was  stitching  me 
together,  the  son  of  the  house,  a  boy  of  twelve,  came 
timidly  to  the  door  of  my  room.  *  Tell  Mr.  Bret  Harte 
it 's  all  right,'  he  said,  *  he  killed  the  hare!  " 

However,  the  reports  made  by  the  Consul  to  the  State 
Department  seem  to  indicate  more  attention  to  his  du- 
ties than  has  commonly  been  credited  to  him.  One  of 
these  communications,  dated  May  4,  1882,  gives  a  de- 
tailed account  of  the  peculiar  Glasgow  custom  according 
to  which  the  several  fiats  or  floors  of  tenement  houses 
are  owned  by  separate  persons,  usually  the  occupants, 
each  owner  of  a  floor  being  a  joint  proprietor,  with  the 
other  floor-owners,  of  the  land  on  which  the  building 
stands,  of  the  roof,  the  staircase  and  the  walls.  Another 
letter  states,  in  answer  to  a  question  by  the  Department, 
that  there  were  at  the  time  probably  not  more  than  six 
American  citizens  resident  in  Glasgow,  and  that  only 
one  such  was  known  to  the  Consul  or  to  his  predecessor. 
This,  in  an  English-speaking  city  of  six  hundred  thou- 
sand people,  seems  extraordinary. 

The  most  interesting  of  Bret  Harte's  communications 
to  the  State  Department  is  perhaps  the  following  :  — 

"  On  a  recent  visit  to  the  Island  of  lona,  within  this 
Consular  District,  I  found  in  the  consecrated  ground  of 
the  ruined  Cathedral  the  graves  of  nineteen  American 
seamen  who  had  perished  in  the  wreck  of  the  *  Guy 
Mannering '  on  the  evening  of  the  31st  of  December, 
1865,  on  the  north  coast  of  the  island.  The  place  where 
they  are  interred  is  marked  by  two  rows  of  low  granite 
pediments  at  the  head  and  feet  of  the  dead,  supporting, 


268  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

and  connected  by,  an  iron  chain  which  encloses  the 
whole  space.  This  was  done  by  the  order  and  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  Lord  of  the  Manor,  the  present  Duke  of 
Argyle. 

"  I  venture  to  make  these  facts  known  to  the  Depart- 
ment, satisfied  that  such  recognition  of  the  thoughtful 
courtesy  of  the  Duke  of  Argyle  as  would  seem  most  fit 
and  appropriate  to  the  Department  will  be  made,  and 
that  possibly  a  record  of  the  names  of  the  seamen  will  be 
placed  upon  some  durable  memorial  erected  upon  the  spot. 

**  In  conclusion  I  beg  to  state  that  should  the  Depart- 
ment deem  any  expenditure  by  the  Government  for  this 
purpose  inexpedient,  I  am  willing,  with  the  permission 
of  the  Department,  to  endeavor  to  procure  by  private 
subscription  a  sufficient  fund  for  the  outlay." 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  record  that  these  suggestions  were 
adopted  by  the  State  Department.  A  letter  of  acknow- 
ledgment and  thanks  was  sent  to  the  Duke  of  Argyle, 
and  a  shaft  or  obelisk  with  the  names  of  the  seamen  in- 
scribed thereon  was  erected  by  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment in  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1882. 

Bret  Harte's  Consular  experiences  with  seamen  recall 
those  of  Hawthorne  at  Liverpool,  and  he  appears  to 
have  acted  with  an  equal  sense  of  humanity.  In  one 
case  he  insisted  that  two  sailors  who  had  been  convicted 
of  theft  should  nevertheless  receive  the  three  months' 
pay  due  them,  without  which  they  would  have  been  penni- 
less on  their  discharge  from  prison.  He  took  the  ground 
that  conviction  of  this  offence  was  not  equivalent  to  de- 
sertion, and  therefore  that  the  wages  were  not  forfeited. 
He  adds  :  "The  case  did  not  appear  to  call  for  any 
leniency  on  the  part  of  the  Government  toward  the  ship- 
owners. The  record  of  the  ship's  voyage  was  one  of  un- 
seaworthiness, brutality  and  inefificiency." 


BRET  HARTE  AT  GLASGOW  269 

In  another  case,  the  Consul  supplied  from  his  own 
pocket  the  wants  of  a  shipwrecked  American  sailor, 
and  procured  for  him  a  passage  home,  there  being  no 
government  fund  available  for  the  purpose. 

A  glimpse  of  his  Consular  functions  is  given  in  the 
opening  paragraph  of  Young  Robin  Gray:  — 

"  The  good  American  bark  Skyscraper  was  swinging 
at  her  moorings  in  the  Clyde,  off  Bannock,  ready  for  sea. 
But  that  good  American  bark  —  although  owned  in  Balti- 
more —  had  not  a  plank  of  American  timber  in  her  hulk, 
nor  a  native  American  in  her  crew,  and  even  her  nautical 
'  goodness '  had  been  called  in  serious  question  by  divers 
of  that  crew  during  her  voyage,  and  answered  more  or 
less  inconclusively  with  belaying-pins,  marlin-spikes,  and 
ropes'  ends  at  the  hands  of  an  Irish-American  Cap- 
tain and  a  Dutch  and  Danish  Mate.  So  much  so,  that 
the  mysterious  powers  of  the  American  Consul  at  St. 
Kentigern^  had  been  evoked  to  punish  mutiny  on  the 
one  hand,  and  battery  and  starvation  on  the  other ;  both 
equally  attested  by  manifestly  false  witness  and  suborn- 
ation on  each  side.  In  the  exercise  of  his  functions,  the 
Consul  had  opened  and  shut  some  jail  doors,  and  other- 
wise effected  the  usual  sullen  and  deceitful  compromise, 
and  his  flag  was  now  flying,  on  a  final  visit,  from  the 
stern  sheets  of  a  smart  boat  alongside.  It  was  with  a 
feeling  of  relief  at  the  end  of  the  interview  that  he  at 
last  lifted  his  head  above  an  atmosphere  of  perjury  and 
bilge-water  and  came  on  deck." 

When  the  Consul  reached  the  deck  he  saw,  for  the 
first  time,  Ailsa  Callender,  one  of  the  most  charming  of 
his  heroines,  and  as  characteristically  Scotch  as  M'liss 
was  characteristically  Western.  The  Reader  will  not  be 

1  St.  Kentigern  established  a  Bishopric  in  the  year  560  in  the  place 
which  afterward  became  Glasgow,  and  thus  he  is  regarded  as  the  founder 
of  the  city.  His  monument  is  shown  beneath  the  choir  of  the  Cathedral 
where  his  body  was  interred  a.  D.  601. 


270  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

sorry  to  recall  the  impression  that  Ailsa  Callender  sub- 
sequently made  upon  the  young  American,  Robert 
Gray  :  — 

" '  She  took  me  to  task  for  not  laying  up  the  yacht  on 
Sunday  that  the  men  could  go  to  "  Kirk,"  and  for  swear- 
ing at  a  bargeman  who  ran  across  our  bows.  It 's  their 
perfect  simplicity  and  sincerity  in  all  this  that  gets  me ! 
You  'd  have  thought  that  the  old  man  was  my  guardian, 
and  the  daughter  my  aunt'  After  a  pause  he  uttered  a 
reminiscent  laugh.  *  She  thought  we  ate  and  drank  too 
much  on  the  yacht,  and  wondered  what  we  could  find  to 
do  all  day.  All  this,  you  know,  in  the  gentlest,  caress- 
ing sort  of  voice,  as  if  she  was  really  concerned,  like 
one's  own  sister.  Well,  not  exactly  like  mine,'  —  he  in- 
terrupted himself  grimly,  —  *  but,  hang  it  all,  you  know 
what  I  mean.  You  know  that  our  girls  over  there 
have  n't  got  that  trick  of  voice.  Too  much  self-assertion, 
I  reckon ;  things  made  too  easy  for  them  by  us  men. 
Habit  of  race,  I  dare  say.'  He  laughed  a  little.  '  Why, 
I  mislaid  my  glove  when  I  was  coming  away,  and  it  was 
as  good  as  a  play  to  hear  her  commiserating  and  sympa- 
thizing and  hunting  for  it  as  if  it  were  a  lost  baby.' 

**  *  But  you  've  seen  Scotch  girls  before  this,'  said  the 
Consul.  'There  were  Lady  Glairn's  daughters  whom 
you  took  on  a  cruise.* 

"  *  Yes,  but  the  swell  Scotch  all  imitate  the  English, 
as  everybody  else  does,  for  the  matter  of  that,  our  girls 
included  ;  and  they're  all  alike.'  " 

The  shrewd,  solid,  genial,  even  religious  Sir  James 
MacFen,  in  The  Heir  of  the  McHulisheSy  and  the  porter 
in  A  Rose  of  Glenbogie,  are  native  to  the  soil,  and  have 
no  counterparts  in  America,  east  or  west. 

These  three  stories  dealing  with  Scotch  scenes  and 
people  prove  the  falsity  of  the  assertion  sometimes  made 
that  Bret  Harte  could  write  only  about  California: — he 
could  have  gone  on  writing  about  Scotland  all  his  life, 


BRET  HARTE  AT  GLASGOW  271 

had  he  continued  to  live  there,  and  the  tales  would  have 
been  as  readable,  if  not  so  nearly  unique,  as  those  which 
deal  with  California.  He  liked  the  Scotch  people,  and 
was  received  by  them  with  great  kindness  and  hospital- 
ity. "  On  my  birthday,"  he  wrote,  "which  became  quite 
accidentally  known  to  a  few  friends  in  the  hotel,  my  table 
was  covered  with  bouquets  of  flowers  and  little  remem- 
brances from  cigar-cases  to  lockets." 

At  this  period  Bret  Harte  made  the  acquaintance  of 
William  Black  and  Walter  Besant,  and  with  the  former 
he  became  very  intimate.  In  the  life  of  William  Black 
by  his  friend,  Sir  Wemyss  Reid,  there  are  many  refer- 
ences to  Bret  Harte.  The  two  story-writers  first  met  as 
guests  of  Sir  George  Wombwell,  who  had  invited  them 
and  a  few  others,  including  Mr.  Shepard,  the  American 
vice-Consul  at  Bradford,  to  make  a  driving  trip  to  the 
ruined  abbeys  of  Eastern  Yorkshire.  The  party  dined 
together  at  the  Yorkshire  Club  in  York,  which  was  the 
meeting  point.  "  I  remember  few  more  lively  evenings 
than  that,"  writes  Sir  Wemyss  Reid.  "  Black  and  Bret 
Harte,  whose  acquaintance  he  had  just  made,  vied  with 
each  other  in  the  good  stories  they  told  and  the  repartees 
they  exchanged." 

Shortly  afterward  Black  wrote  to  Reid,  "  Bret  Harte 
went  down  to  us  at  Brighton,  and  if  we  did  n't  amuse 
him  he  certainly  amused  us.  He  is  coming  again  next 
week." 

Later  he  wrote  again  from  the  Reform  Club  in  Lon- 
don, to  Reid :  "  In  a  few  weeks'  time  don't  be  surprised 
if  Bret  Harte  and  I  come  and  look  in  upon  you — that  is, 
if  he  is  not  compelled  for  mere  shame's  sake  to  go  to  his 
Consular  duties  (!!!)  at  once.  He  is  the  most  extraor- 
dinary globule  of  mercury — comet — aerolite  gone  drunk 
—  flash  of  lightning  doing  Catherine  wheels  —  I  ever 
had  any  experience  of.  Nobody  knows  where  he  is,  and 
the  day  before  yesterday  I  discovered  here  a  pile  of  let- 


272  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

ters  that  had  been  slowly  accumulating  for  him  since  Feb- 
ruary, 1879.  It  seems  he  never  reported  himself  to  the 
all-seeing  Escott  [the  hall  porter],  and  never  asked  for 
letters  when  he  got  his  month's  honorary  membership 
last  year.  People  are  now  sending  letters  to  him  from 
America  addressed  to  me  at  Brighton  !  But  he  is  a  mys- 
tery and  the  cause  of  mystifications." 

In  the  following  July  there  is  another  mention  of  Bret 
Harte  in  one  of  Black's  letters.  "Bret  Harte  was  to  have 
been  back  from  Paris  last  night,  but  he  is  a  wandering 
comet.  The  only  place  he  is  sure  not  to  be  found  in  is 
the  Glasgow  Consulate." 

But  the  Consul's  wanderings  were  not  so  frequent  as 
Mr.  Black  supposed.  Bret  Harte  had  almost  a  monoma- 
nia for  not  answering  letters  ;  and  his  absence  from  Glas- 
gow could  not  safely  be  inferred  from  his  failure  to  ac- 
knowledge communications  addressed  to  him  there.  A 
rumor  as  to  the  Consul's  prolonged  desertion  of  his  post 
had  reached  the  State  Department  at  Washington,  and 
in  November,  1882,  the  Department  wrote  to  him  request- 
ing a  report  on  the  subject.  He  replied  that  he  had  not 
been  away  from  Glasgow  beyond  the  usual  limit  of  ten 
days,^  at  any  one  time,  except  on  holidays  and  Sundays. 
This  report  appears  to  have  been  accepted  as  satisfactory, 
and  the  incident  was  closed. 

At  one  time  Bret  Harte  was  to  have  dined  with  Sir 
Wemyss  Reid  and  William  Black  at  the  Reform  Club ; 
"but  in  his  place,"  says  the  biographer,  "came  a  telegram 
in  which  I  was  invited  to  ask  Black  and  Lockyer,  who 
had  just  spent  a  few  days  with  him  in  Scotland,  their 
opinion  of  the  game  of  poker — evidence  that  they  had 
not  spent  all  their  time  in  Scotland  in  viewing  scenery." 

The  damp  climate  of  Glasgow  did  not  agree  with  Bret 

1  By  the  regulations  then  in  force  Consuls  were  forbidden  to  be  absent 
from  their  posts  for  a  period  exceeding  ten  days,  without  first  obtaining 
leave  from  the  President. 


BRET  HARTE  AT  GLASGOW  273 

Harte,  and  so  early  in  his  residence  there  as  July,  1881, 
he  wrote  to  the  State  Department  requesting  leave  of 
absence  for  three  months,  with  permission  to  visit  the 
United  States,  on  the  ground  that  the  state  of  his  health 
was  such  that  he  might  require  a  complete  change  of 
scene  and  air.  The  request  was  granted,  but  the  Consul 
did  not  return  to  his  native  country. 

In  March,  1885,  Bret  Harte  wrote  to  Black  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"  My  dear  Black,  —  I  was  in  the  far  South,  trying 
to  get  rid  of  an  obstinate  cold,  when  your  note  reached 
me,  and  haven't  been  in  London  for  some  time.  I  ex- 
pected you  to  drop  in  here  on  your  way  up  to  *  Balna- 
gownie's  arms '  —  whoever  she  may  be.  I  'm  afraid  I 
don't  want  any  *  Ardgay '  in  mine,  thank  you.  Why  any 
man  in  this  damp  climate  should  want  to  make  himself 
wetter  by  salmon-fishing  passes  my  comprehension.  Is 
there  no  drier  sport  to  be  had  in  all  Great  Britain }  I 
shudder  at  the  name  of  a  river,  and  shiver  at  the  sight 
of  any  fish  that  is  n't  dried.  I  hear,  too,  that  you  are  in 
the  habit  of  making  poetry  on  these  occasions,  and  that 
you  are  dropping  lines  all  over  the  place.  How  far  is 
that  place  —  anyway  .!*  I  shall  be  in  Glasgow  until  the 
end  of  March,  and  if  you  '11  dry  yourself  thoroughly  and 
come  in  and  dine  with  me  at  that  time,  I  '11  show  you 
how  *  the  laboring  poor '  of  Glasgow  live.  Yours  always, 

"Bret  Harte." 

But,  alas  for  Bret  Harte !  when  this  letter  was  writ- 
ten, his  labors  at  Glasgow  were  about  to  cease.  In  the 
year  1885  a  new  Administration  entered  upon  its  duties 
at  Washington,  and  many  Consuls  were  superseded,  per- 
haps for  good  cause.  Bret  Harte  was  removed  in  July, 
and  another  man  of  letters,  Mr.  Frank  Underwood  of 
Boston,  reigned  in  his  stead. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

BRET   HARTE    IN    LONDON 

In  1880,  during  one  of  his  many  visits  to  London,  Bret 
Harte  made  the  acquaintance  of  M.  Arthur  and  Mme. 
Van  de  Velde,  who  were  already  enthusiastic  readers 
of  his  works,  and  it  was  not  long  before  they  became 
his  most  intimate  friends  in  England  if  not  in  the  world. 
From  1885,  when  he  went  to  London  to  live,  until  the 
death  of  M.  Van  de  Velde  in  1895,  he  was  an  inmate  of 
their  house  for  a  great  part  of  the  time.  Afterward,  Bret 
Harte  took  rooms  at  number  74  Lancaster  Gate,  which 
remained  his  headquarters  for  the  rest  of  his  life;  but 
he  was  often  a  guest  at  Mme.  Van  de  Velde's  town  house, 
and  at  her  country  home.  The  Red  House  at  Camberley 
in  Sussex. 

M.  Van  de  Velde  was  a  Belgian  whose  life  had  been 
spent  in  the  diplomatic  service  of  his  country.  For  many 
years  he  was  Councillor  of  Legation  in  London.  Mme. 
Van  de  Velde,  his  second  wife,  is  of  Italian  birth,  an  ac- 
complished woman  of  the  world,  and  a  writer  of  repu- 
tation. She  translated  many  of  Bret  Harte's  stories  into 
French,  and  is  the  author  of  "  Random  Recollections  of 
Court  and  Society,"  "  Cosmopolitan  Recollections,"  and 
"French  Fiction  of  To-day."  A  quotation  has  already 
been  made  from  her  discriminating  essay  on  Bret  Harte. 
Her  influence  upon  him  was  an  important  factor  in  the 
last  twenty  years  of  his  life.  Mme.  Van  de  Velde  led  him 
to  take  himself  and  his  art  more  seriously  than  he  had 
done  since  coming  to  England.  He  settled  down  to  his 
work,  put  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  and  kept  it  there 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life.    For  a  man  naturally 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       275 

indolent  and  inclined  to  underrate  his  own  writings,  this 
well-sustained  industry  was  remarkable.  Bret  Harte  was 
always  more  easily  influenced  by  women  than  by  men. 
He  showed  his  best  side  to  them,  and  they  called  out 
the  gentleness  and  chivalry  of  his  nature.  No  woman 
ever  spoke  ill  of  him,  and  among  his  most  grateful  ad- 
mirers to-day  are  the  California  women  who  contributed 
to  the  "  Overland  Monthly,"  and  who  testify  to  the  uni- 
form kindness  and  consideration  with  which  he  treated 
them. 

Bret  Harte's  habits  were  regular  and  simple.  He 
smoked  a  good  deal,  drank  very  little,  and  took  exercise 
every  day.  At  one  time  he  played  golf,  and  at  another 
he  was  somewhat  interested  in  amateur  photography. 
But  his  real  recreation,  as  well  as  his  labor,  was  found  in 
that  imaginary  world  which  sprang  to  life  under  his  pen. 
He  was  often  a  guest  at  English  country  houses,  and 
was  familiar  with  the  history  of  English  cathedrals,  ab- 
beys, churches,  and  historical  ruins.  He  made  a  pilgrim- 
age to  Macbeth's  country  in  Scotland  and  to  Charlotte 
Bronte's  home  in  Yorkshire.  He  loved  Byron's  poetry, 
and  was  once  a  guest  at  Newstead  Abbey.  He  frequently 
visited  Lord  Compton,  later  Marquis  of  Northampton, 
at  Compton  Wyngates  in  Warwickshire  near  the  battle- 
ground of  Edgehill,  and  at  Castle  Ashby  at  Northamp- 
ton. Reminiscences  of  these  visits  may  be  found  in  The 
Desborough  Connections  and  The  Ghosts  of  Stukeley 
Castle.  He  belonged  to  various  clubs,  such  as  The  Beef- 
steak, The  Rabelais,  The  Kinsmen;  but  during  the  last 
few  years  of  his  life  he  frequented  only  the  Royal 
Thames  Yacht  Club. 

"This  selection  seemed  to  me  so  odd,"  writes  Mr. 
Pemberton,  "  for  he  had  no  love  of  yachting,  that  I  ques- 
tioned him  concerning  it.  *Why,  my  dear  fellow,'  he 
said,  *  don't  you  see  t  I  never  use  a  club  until  I  am  tired 
of  my  work  and  want  relief  from  it.  If  I  go  to  a  literary 


276  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

club  I  am  asked  all  sorts  of  questions  as  to  what  I  am 
doing,  and  my  views  on  somebody's  last  book,  and  to 
these  I  am  expected  to  reply  at  length.  Now  my  good 
friends  in  Albemarle  Street  talk  of  their  yachts,  don't 
want  my  advice  about  them,  are  good  enough  to  let  me 
listen,  and  I  come  away  refreshed  by  their  conversa- 
tion.' "1 

So  Hawthorne,  it  will  be  remembered,  cared  little  for 
the  meetings  of  the  Saturday  Club  in  Boston,  and  was 
often  an  absentee,  but  he  delighted  in  the  company  of 
the  Yankee  sea-captains  at  Mrs.  Blodgett's  boarding- 
house  in  Liverpool.  "Captain  Johnson,"  he  wrote,  "as- 
signed as  a  reason  for  not  boarding  at  this  house  that 
the  conversation  made  him  sea-sick;  and  indeed  the 
smell  of  tar  and  bilge-water  is  somewhat  strongly  per- 
ceptible in  it." 

The  truth  is  that  an  aversion  to  the  society  of  purely 
literary  men  should  naturally  be  looked  for  in  writers  of 
a  profound  or  original  stamp  of  mind.  Something  may 
be  learned  and  some  refreshment  of  spirit  may  be  ob- 
tained from  almost  any  man  who  knows  almost  anything 
at  first  hand,  — even  from  a  market-gardener  or  a  ma- 
chinist ;  and  if  his  subject  is  what  might  be  called  a  natu- 
ral one,  such  as  ships,  horses  or  cows,  it  is  bound  to  have 
a  certain  intellectual  interest.  But  the  ordinary,  clever, 
sophisticated  litterateur  is  mainly  occupied  neither  with 
things  nor  with  ideas,  but  with  forms  of  expression,  and 
consequently  he  is  a  long  way  removed  from  reality.  It 
may  be  doubted  if  any  society  in  the  world  is  less  profit- 
able than  his. 

Mr.  Moncure  Conway,  in  his  autobiography,  gives  an 
amusing  reminiscence  of  Bret  Harte's  proneness  to  es- 
cape from  what  are  known  as  "  social  duties."  Mrs.  Con- 
way "received"  on  Monday  afternoons,  and  Bret  Harte 
had  told  her  that  he  would  be  present  on  a  particular 

1  Pemberton's  "  Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  page  334. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       277 

Monday,  but  he  failed  to  appear,  —  much  to  the  regret 
of  some  persons  who  had  been  invited  for  the  occasion. 
"When  chancing  to  meet  him,"  writes  Mr.  Conway,  "I 
alluded  to  the  disappointment ;  he  asked  forgiveness  and 
said,  *I  will  come  next  Monday — even  though  I  pro- 
mise: " 

He  had  a  constant  dread  that  his  friendship  or  ac- 
quaintance would  be  sought  on  account  of  his  writings, 
rather  than  for  himself.  A  lady  who  sat  next  to  him  at 
dinner  without  learning  his  name,  afterward  remarked, 
**  I  have  always  longed  to  meet  him,  and  I  would  have 
been  so  different  had  I  only  known  who  my  neighbor 
was."  This,  unfortunately,  being  repeated  to  Bret  Harte, 
he  exclaimed,  '*  Now,  why  can't  a  woman  realize  that  this 

sort  of  thing  is  insulting .?  .  .  .  If  Mrs. talked  with 

me,  and  found  me  uninteresting  as  a  man,  how  could  she 
expect  to  find  me  interesting  because  I  was  an  author } " 

During  the  last  ten  or  fifteen  years  of  his  life,  Bret 
Harte  seldom  went  far  from  home.  He  never  visited 
Switzerland  until  September,  1895,  and  even  then  he 
carried  his  manuscript  with  him,  and  devoted  to  it  part 
of  each  day.  He  took  great  delight  in  the  Swiss  moun- 
tains, often  spoke  of  his  vacation  there,  and  was  plan- 
ning to  go  again  during  the  summer  of  his  death. 

From  Lucerne  he  wrote  to  a  friend^  as  follows: 
"  Strangest  of  all,  I  find  my  heart  going  back  to  the  old 
Sierras  whenever  I  get  over  three  thousand  feet  of  Swiss 
altitude,  and  —  dare  I  whisper  it.-*  —  in  spite  of  their 
pictorial  composition,  I  would  n't  give  a  mile  of  the  dear 
old  Sierras,  with  their  honesty,  sincerity,  and  magnificent 
uncouthness,  for  one  hundred  thousand  kilometres  of 
the  picturesque  Vaud." 

Of  Geneva  he  wrote  to  the  same  correspondent: 
"  I  thought  I  should  not  like  Geneva,  fancying  it  a  kind 
of  continental  Boston,  and  that  the  shadow  of  John  Cal- 

1  Mary  Stuart  Boyd.    See  "  Harper's  Magazine,"  vol.  105,  page  773. 


278  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

vin  and  the  old  reformers,  or  still  worse  the  sentimental 
idiocy  of  Rousseau,  and  the  De  Staels  and  Mme.  de 
Warens  still  lingered  there." 

But  he  did  like  Geneva ;  and  of  the  lake,  as  he  viewed 
it  from  his  hotel  window,  he  wrote,  "Ask  him  if  he 
ever  saw  an  expanse  of  thirty  miles  of  water  exactly  the 
color  of  the  inner  shell  of  a  Mother-of- Pearl  oyster." 

Of  Geneva  itself  he  wrote  again :  "  It  is  gay,  bril- 
liant, and  even  as  pictorial  as  the  end  of  Lake  Leman ; 
and  as  I  sit  by  my  hotel  window  on  the  border  of  the 
lake  I  can  see  Mont  Blanc  —  thirty  or  forty  miles  away 
— framing  itself  a  perfect  vignette.  Of  course  I  know 
the  whole  thing  was  arranged  by  the  Grand  Hotel  Com- 
pany that  run  Switzerland.  Last  night  as  I  stood  on  my 
balcony  looking  at  the  great  semi-circle  of  lights  fram- 
ing the  quay  and  harbor  of  the  town,  a  great  fountain 
sent  up  a  spray  from  the  lake  three  hundred  feet  high, 
illuminated  by  beautifully  shaded  *lime  lights,*  exactly 
like  a  '  transformation  scene.'  Just  then,  the  new  moon 
—  a  pale  green  sickle  —  swung  itself  over  the  Alps ! 
But  it  was  absolutely  too  much !  One  felt  that  the 
Hotel  Company  were  overdoing  it  !  And  I  wanted  to 
order  up  the  hotel  proprietor  and  ask  him  to  take  it  down. 
At  least  I  suggested  it  to  the  Colonel,^  but  he  thought  it 
would  do  as  well  if  we  refused  to  pay  for  it  in  the  bill." 

The  same  correspondent,  by  the  way,  quotes  an  amus- 
ing letter  from  Bret  Harte,  written  in  1888,  from  Stoke 
Pogis,  near  Windsor  Castle :  "  I  had  the  honor  yester- 
day of  speaking  to  a  man  who  had  been  in  personal  at- 
tendance upon  the  Queen  for  fifty  years.  He  was  natu- 
rally very  near  the  point  of  translation,  and  gave  a  vague 
impression  that  he  did  not  require  to  be  born  again,  but 
remained  on  earth  for  the  benefit  of  American  tour- 
ists." 

Bret  Harte's  reasons  for  remaining  so  long  in  England 

1  His  friend  and  travelling  companion,  Colonel  Arthur  Collins. 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       279 

have  already  been  explained  in  part.  The  chief  cause  was 
probably  the  pecuniary  one,  for  by  living  in  England  he 
was  able  to  obtain  more  from  his  writings  than  he  could 
have  obtained  as  a  resident  of  the  United  States.  He 
continued  to  contribute  to  the  support  of  his  wife,  al- 
though after  his  departure  from  this  country  Mrs.  Harte 
and  he  did  not  live  together.  The  cause  of  their  separa- 
tion was  never  made  known.  On  this  subject  both  Mr. 
Harte  and  his  wife  maintained  an  honorable  silence, 
which,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  always  be  respected. 

A  few  years  before  her  husband's  death,  Mrs.  Harte 
came  to  England  to  live.  The  older  son,  Griswold  Harte, 
died  in  the  city  of  New  York,  in  December,  1901,  leav- 
ing a  widow  and  one  daughter.  The  second  son,  Francis 
King  Harte,  was  married  in  England  some  years  ago, 
and  makes  his  home  there.  He  has  two  children.  Bret 
Harte  was  often  a  visitor  at  his  son's  house.  The  older 
daughter,  Jessamy,  married  Henry  Milford  Steele,  an 
American,  and  lives  in  the  United  States.  The  younger 
daughter,  Ethel,  is  unmarried,  and  lives  with  her  mother. 

Beyond  the  pecuniary  reason  which  impelled  Bret 
Harte  to  live  in  England  were  other  reasons  which  every 
American  who  has  spent  some  time  in  that  country  will 
understand,  and  which  are  especially  strong  in  respect 
to  persons  of  nervous  temperament.  The  climate  is  one 
reason  ;  for  the  English  climate  is  the  natural  antidote  to 
the  American  ;  and  perhaps  the  residents  of  each  coun- 
try would  be  better  if  they  could  exchange  habitats  every 
other  generation. 

England  has  a  soothing  effect  upon  the  hustling 
American.  He  eats  more,  worries  less,  and  becomes  a 
happier  and  pleasanter  animal.  A  similar  change  has  been 
observed  in  high-strung  horses  taken  from  the  United 
States  to  England.  And  so  of  athletes  —  the  English 
athlete,  transported  to  this  country,  gains  in  speed,  but 
loses  endurance ;  whereas  our  athletes  on  English  soil 


28o  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

gain  endurance  and  lose  speed.  The  temperament  and 
manners  of  the  English  people  have  the  same  pleasant 
effect  as  the  climate  upon  the  American  visitor.  Why- 
is  John  Bull  always  represented  as  an  irascible  animal  ? 
Perhaps  he  is  such  if  his  rights,  real  or  assumed,  are  in- 
vaded, or  if  his  will  is  thwarted ;  but  as  the  stranger 
meets  him,  he  is  civil  and  good-natured.  In  fact,  this  is 
one  of  the  chief  surprises  which  an  American  experiences 
on  his  first  visit  to  England. 

More  important  still,  perhaps,  is  the  ease  of  living  in  a 
country  which  has  a  fixed  social  system.  The  plain  line 
drawn  in  England  between  the  gentleman  and  the  non- 
gentleman  class  makes  things  very  pleasant  for  those 
who  belong  to  the  favored  division.  It  gives  the  gentle- 
man a  vantage  ground  in  dealing  with  the  non-gentleman 
which  proves  as  convenient,  as  it  is  novel,  to  the  Ameri- 
can. The  fact  that  it  must  be  inconvenient  for  the  non- 
gentleman  class,  which  outnumbers  the  other  some  thou- 
sands to  one,  never  seems  to  trouble  the  Englishman, 
although  the  American  may  have  some  qualms. 

Furthermore,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  position  of 
an  author,  /)er  se  is,  no  doubt,  higher  in  London  (though 
perhaps  not  elsewhere  in  England)  than  it  is  in  the 
United  States.  With  us,  the  well-to-do  publisher  has  a 
better  standing  in  what  is  called  "society"  than  the  im- 
pecunious author.  In  London  the  reverse  would  be  the 
case.  New  York  and  Boston  looked  askance  upon  Bret 
Harte,  doubting  if  he  were  quite  respectable  ;  but  Lon- 
don welcomed  him.  Bret  Harte  was  often  asked  to  lec- 
ture in  England,  and  especially  to  speak  or  write  upon 
English  customs  or  English  society ;  but  he  always  re- 
fused, being  unwilling,  as  Thackeray  was  in  regard  to  the 
United  States,  either  to  censure  a  people  from  whom  he 
had  received  great  hospitality,  or  to  praise  them  at  the 
expense  of  truth. 

Nor  was  his  belief  in  America  and  the  American  so- 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       281 

cial  system  weakened  in  the  least  by  his  long  residence 
in  England  or  by  his  enjoyment  of  the  amenities  of  Eng- 
lish life. 

An  English  author  wrote  of  him,  while  he  was  yet 
living  :  "  Time  has  not  dulled  Bret  Harte's  instinctive 
affection  for  the  land  of  his  birth,  for  its  institutions,  its 
climate,  its  natural  beauties,  and,  above  all,  the  character 
and  moral  attributes  of  its  inhabitants.  Even  his  associ- 
ation with  the  most  aristocratic  representatives  of  Lon- 
don society  has  been  impotent  to  modify  his  views  or  to 
win  him  over  to  less  independent  professions.  He  is  as 
single-minded  to-day  as  he  was  when  he  first  landed  on 
British  soil.  A  general  favorite  in  the  most  diverse  cir- 
cles, social,  literary,  scientific,  artistic,  or  military,  his 
strong  primitive  nature  and  his  positive  individuality  have 
remained  intact.  Always  polite  and  gentle,  neither  seek- 
ing nor  evading  controversy,  he  is  steadfastly  unchange- 
able in  his  political  and  patriotic  beliefs." 

Another  English  writer  relates  that  "  At  the  time  wh  jn 
there  was  some  talk  of  war  between  Britain  and  America, 
he,  while  deploring  even  the  suggestion  of  such  a  catas- 
trophe, earnestly  avowed  his  intention  of  instantly  return- 
ing to  his  own  country,  should  hostilities  break  out." 

No  two  men  could  be  more  opposed  in  many  respects 
than  Hawthorne  and  Bret  Harte.  Nevertheless  they  had 
some  striking  points  of  resemblance.  Both  were  men  who 
united  primitive  instincts  with  consummate  refinement; 
and  different  as  is  the  subject-matter  of  their  stories, 
the  style  and  attitude  are  not  unlike.  They  had  the  same 
craving  for  beauty  of  form,  the  same  self-repression,  the 
same  horror  of  what  is  prolix  or  tawdry,  the  same  love 
of  that  simplicity  which  is  the  perfection  of  art. 

Long  residence  in  England  seems  to  have  had  much  the 
same  effect  upon  both  men.  It  heightened  their  feeling 
for  their  native  country  almost  in  proportion  as  it  pleased 
their  own   susceptibilities.     Hawthorne's  fondness  for 


282  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

England  was  an  almost  unconscious  feeling.  When  he 
returned  to  America,  there  to  live  for  the  remainder  of 
his  days,  he  did  not  find  himself  at  home  in  the  manner 
or  to  the  degree  which  he  had  expected.  *' At  Rome," 
his  son  writes,  "an  unacknowledged  homesickness  af- 
fected him,  an  Old-Homesickness,  rather  than  a  yearn- 
ing for  America.  He  may  have  imagined  that  it  was 
America  that  he  wanted,  but  when  at  last  we  returned 
there,  he  still  looked  backward  toward  England." 

That  a  man  should  find  it  more  agreeable  to  live  in  one 
country,  and  yet  be  firmly  convinced  that  the  social  sys- 
tem of  another  country  was  superior,  is  nothing  remark- 
able. It  is  the  presence  of  equality  in  the  United  States 
and  its  absence  in  England  which  make  the  chief  dif- 
ference between  them.  Even  that  imperfect  equality  to 
which  we  have  attained  has  rendered  the  American  peo- 
ple the  happiest  and  the  most  moral  in  the  world.  To  the 
superficial  visitor,  indeed,  who  has  seen  only  a  few  great 
cities  in  the  United  States,  it  might  seem  that  equality 
is  not  much  more  prevalent  here  than  it  is  in  England; 
but  let  him  tarry  a  while  in  the  smaller  cities,  in  the 
towns  and  villages  of  the  Union,  from  the  Atlantic  to 
the  Pacific,  and  he  will  reach  a  different  conclusion.  An 
English  writer  of  unusual  discernment  speaks  of  "  that 
conscious  independence,  that  indefinable  assertion  of 
manhood,  which  is  the  key  to  the  American  character." 

One  result  of  Bret  Harte's  long  residence  in  England 
was  the  circulation  in  this  country  of  many  false  reports 
and  statements  about  him  which  galled  his  sensitive  na- 
ture. He  had  many  times  declined  to  be  "interviewed," 
and  probably  made  enemies  in  that  way.  "  But  when," 
writes  Mme.  Van  de  Velde,  "in  a  moment  of  good  nature 
he  yielded  to  pressing  solicitations,  and  allowed  himself 
to  be  questioned,  the  consequences  were,  on  the  whole, 
to  his  disadvantage.  From  that  moment  the  door  was 
opened  to  a  flood  of  apocryphal  statements  of  various 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       283 

length  and  importance ;  sometimes  entirely  false,  some- 
times tinged  with  a  dangerous  verisimilitude ;  often  gro- 
tesque, occasionally  malicious,  but  one  and  all  purporting 
to  be  derived  from  unquestionable  sources." 

Mr.  Pemberton  hints  at  more  serious  troubles  which 
afflicted  Bret  Harte's  last  years.  "  If  he,  in  common  with 
many  of  us,  had  his  deep  personal  disappointments  and 
sorrows,  he  bore  them  with  the  chivalry  of  a  Bayard  and 
a  silence  as  dignified  as  it  was  pathetic.  To  a  man  of  his 
sensitive  nature,  the  barbed  shafts  of  *envy  and  calumny 
and  hate  and  pain '  lacerated  with  a  cruelty  that  at  times 
must  have  seemed  unendurable.  Under  such  torments 
he  often  writhed,  but  he  suffered  all  things  with  a  quiet 
patience  that  afforded  a  glorious  example  to  those  friends 
who,  knowing  of  his  wounds,  had  to  be  silent  concerning 
them,  and  could  offer  him  no  balm." 

During  the  year  1901  Bret  Harte's  health  was  failing, 
although  he  still  kept  at  work.  His  disease  was  cancer 
of  the  throat.  He  hoped  to  go  abroad  the  following  sum- 
mer, and  he  had  written  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "  Alas ! 
I  have  never  been  light-hearted  since  Switzerland."  But 
early  in  1902  his  condition  became  serious,  and  he  went  to 
stay  with  Mme.  Van  de  Velde  at  Camberley.  The  Spring 
was  cold  and  sunless,  and  he  grew  worse  as  it  advanced. 
Nevertheless  he  was  engaged  in  writing  a  play  with  Mr. 
Pemberton,  and  was  meditating  a  new  story  which  should 
reintroduce  that  favorite  of  the  public.  Colonel  Star- 
bottle.  In  March  a  surgical  operation  was  performed  on 
his  throat,  but  the  relief  was  slight  and  temporary;  and 
from  that  time  forward  Bret  Harte  must  have  known 
that  his  fate  was  sealed,  although  he  said  nothing  to  his 
friends  and  with  them  appeared  to  be  in  good,  even  high 
spirits. 

April  17,  feeling  somewhat  better,  he  sat  down  to 
begin  his  new  tale.  He  headed  it,  "A  Friend  of  Colonel 
Starbottle's,"  and  wrote  the  opening  sentence  and  part  of 


284  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

another  sentence.  Dissatisfied  with  this  beginning,  he 
tried  again,  and  taking  a  fresh  sheet  of  paper,  he  wrote 
the  title  and  one  sentence.  There  the  manuscript  ends. 
He  was  unable  to  continue  it,  although  after  this  date 
he  wrote  a  few  letters  to  friends.  On  May  5  he  was 
sitting  in  the  morning,  at  his  desk,  thus  engaged,  when 
a  hemorrhage  of  the  throat  suddenly  attacked  him.  He 
was  put  to  bed,  and  doctors  were  sent  for.  He  rallied 
from  this  attack,  but  a  second  hemorrhage,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  rendered  him  partly  unconscious,  and  soon 
afterward  he  died  peacefully  in  the  presence  of  Mme. 
Van  de  Velde  and  her  attendants. 

There  is  something  sad  in  the  death  of  any  man  far 
from  home  and  country,  with  no  kith  or  kin  about  him, 
though  ministered  to  by  devoted  friends.  Even  Bret 
Harte's  tombstone  bears  the  name  of  one  who  was  a 
stranger  to  his  blood  and  race.  We  cannot  help  recalling 
what  Tennessee's  Partner  said.  "When  a  man  has  been 
running  free  all  day,  what 's  the  natural  thing  for  him  to 
do }  Why,  to  come  home."  Alas !  there  was  no  home- 
coming for  Bret  Harte ;  and  if,  as  may  have  been  the 
case,  he  felt  little  or  no  regret  at  his  situation,  the  sad- 
ness of  it  would  only  be  intensified  by  that  circumstance. 
Some  deterioration  is  inevitable  when  a  husband  and 
father  foregoes,  even  unwillingly,  those  feelings  of  respon- 
sibility and  affection  which  centre  in  the  family,  —  feelings 
so  natural  that  to  a  considerable  degree  we  share  them 
even  with  the  lower  animals. 

That  Bret  Harte's  separation  from  his  family  was  in 
part,  at  least,  his  own  fault  seems  highly  probable  from 
his  character  and  career.  He  abhorred  sentimentality  in 
literature,  and  the  few  examples  of  it  in  his  writings  may 
be  ascribed  to  the  influence  of  Dickens.  Nevertheless, 
with  all  his  virility,  it  must  be  admitted  that  his  nature 
was  that  of  a  sentimentalist.  A  sentimentalist  is  one 
who  obeys  the  natural  good  impulses  of  the  human  heart, 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       285 

but  whose  virtue  does  not  go  much  beyond  that.  He  has 
right  feelings  and  acts  upon  them,  but  in  cases  where 
there  is  nothing  to  provoke  the  right  feeling  he  falls 
short.  He  is  strong  in  impulse,  but  weak  in  principle. 
When  we  see  a  fellow-being  in  danger  or  distress  our 
instinct  is  to  assist  him.  If  we  fail  to  do  so,  it  is  because 
we  hearken  to  reason  rather  than  to  instinct ;  because  we 
obey  the  selfish,  second  thought  which  reason  suggests, 
instead  of  obeying  the  spontaneous  impulse  which  nature 
puts  into  our  hearts. 

But  suppose  that  the  person  to  be  succored  makes  no 
appeal  to  the  heart :  suppose  that  he  is  thousands  of  miles 
away :  suppose  that  one  dislikes  or  even  hates  him : 
suppose  that  it  is  a  question  not  of  bestowing  alms,  or 
of  giving  assistance  or  of  feeling  sympathy,  but  of  ren- 
dering bare  justice.  In  such  cases  the  sentimentalist 
lacks  a  sufficient  spur  for  action  :  he  feels  no  impulse  : 
his  heart  remains  cold  :  he  makes  excuses  to  himself ;  and 
having  no  strong  sense  of  duty  or  principle  to  carry  him 
through  the  ordeal,  he  becomes  guilty  of  an  act  (or, 
more  often,  of  a  failure  to  act)  which  in  another  person 
would  excite  his  indignation.  In  this  sense  Bret  Harte 
was  a  sentimentalist. 

He  would  have  risked  his  life  for  a  present  friend,  but 
was  capable  of  neglecting  an  absent  one. 

This  contradiction,  if  it  be  such,  affords  a  clue  to  his 
character.  In  spite  of  his  amiability,  kindness,  generosity, 
there  was  in  Bret  Harte  an  element  of  cruelty.  Even  his 
natural  improvidence  in  money  matters  can  hardly  excuse 
him  for  selling  the  copyright  of  all  his  stories  as  they 
came  out,  leaving  no  income  to  be  derived  from  them 
after  his  death. 

The  sentimentalist,  being  a  creature  of  impulse,  gets 
in  the  habit  of  obeying  his  impulses,  good  or  bad,  and  is 
apt  to  find  some  difficulty  at  last  in  distinguishing  be- 
tween them.    He  easily  persuades  himself  that  the  thing 


286  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

which  he  wishes  to  do  is  the  right  thing  for  him  to  do. 
This  was  a  trait  of  Bret  Harte's  character,  and  it  natur- 
ally accompanies  that  lack  of  introspection  which  was 
so  marked  in  him.  There  was  a  want  of  background, 
both  intellectual  and  moral,  in  his  nature.  He  was  an 
observer,  not  a  thinker,  and  his  genius  was  shown  only 
as  he  lived  in  the  life  of  others.  Even  his  poetry  is  dra- 
matic, not  lyric.  It  was  very  seldom  that  Bret  Harte,  in 
his  tales  or  elsewhere,  advanced  any  abstract  sentiment 
or  idea  ;  he  was  concerned  wholly  with  the  concrete;  and 
it  is  noticeable  that  when  he  does  venture  to  lay  down 
a  general  principle,  it  fails  to  bear  the  impress  of  real 
conviction.  The  note  of  sincerity  is  wanting.  An  instance 
will  be  found  in  the  General  httroduction  which  he  wrote 
for  the  first  volume  of  his  collected  stories,  where  he 
answers  the  charge  that  he  had  "confused  recognized 
standards  of  morality  by  extenuating  lives  of  reckless- 
ness and  often  criminality  with  a  single,  solitary  virtue." 
After  describing  this  as  "  the  cant  of  too  much  mercy," 
he  goes  on  to  say :  — 

"  Without  claiming  to  be  a  religious  man  or  a  moralist, 
but  simply  as  an  artist,  he  shall  reverently  and  humbly 
conform  to  the  rules  laid  down  by  a  Great  Poet  who 
created  the  parables  of  the  Prodigal  Son  and  the  Good 
Samaritan,  whose  works  have  lasted  eighteen  hundred 
years,  and  will  remain  when  the  present  writer  and  his 
generation  are  forgotten.  And  he  is  conscious  of  utter- 
ing no  original  doctrine  in  this,  but  of  only  voicing  the 
beliefs  of  a  few  of  his  literary  brethren  happily  living, 
and  one  gloriously  dead,  who  never  made  proclamation 
of  this  from  the  housetops." 

This  is  simply  Dickens  both  in  manner  and  substance, 
and  the  tone  of  the  whole  passage  is  insincere  and  ex- 
aggerated, almost  maudlin.  Lamentable,  but  perhaps 
not  strange,  that  in  the  one  place  where  Bret  Harte  ex- 
plained and  defended  what  might  be  called  the  prevail- 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       287 

ing  moral  of  his  stories,  he  should  fall  so  far  short  of 
the  reader's  expectation ! 

The  truth  is  that  Bret  Harte  took  nothing  seriously 
except  his  art,  and  apparently  went  through  life  with  as 
little  concern  about  the  origin,  nature,  and  destiny  of 
mankind  as  it  would  be  possible  for  any  member  of  that 
unfortunate  species  to  feel. 

And  yet  there  was  a  noble  side  to  his  character.  He 
possessed  in  an  unusual  degree  what  is,  perhaps,  the 
most  rare  of  all  good  qualities,  namely,  magnanimity. 
No  man  was  ever  more  free  from  envy  and  jealousy;  no 
writer  was  ever  more  quick  to  perceive  and  to  praise 
excellence  in  others,  or  more  slow  to  disparage  or  con- 
demn. He  used  to  say,  and  really  seemed  to  believe, 
that  Mr.  John  Hay's  imitations  of  his  own  dialect  poems 
were  better  than  the  originals.  All  the  misconstruction 
and  unkind  criticism  of  which  he  was  the  subject  never 
drew  from  him  a  bitter  remark.  He  had  a  tenderness  for 
children  and  dumb  animals,  especially  for  dogs,  and  his 
sympathy  with  them  gave  him  a  wonderful  insight  into 
their  natures.  Who  but  Bret  Harte  could  have  penned 
this  sentence  which  the  Reader  will  recognize  as  occur- 
ring in  The  Argonauts  of  North  Liberty :  "He  [Dick 
Demorest]  had  that  piteous  wistfulness  of  eye  seen  in 
some  dogs  and  the  husbands  of  many  charming  women, 
—  the  affection  that  pardons  beforehand  the  indifference 
which  it  has  learned  to  expect." 

In  breadth  and  warmth  of  sympathy  for  his  fellow- 
men  Bret  Harte  had  what  almost  might  be  described  as 
a  substitute  for  religion ;  what  indeed  has  been  described 
as  religion  itself.  Long  ago,  an  author  who  afterward 
became  famous,  touched  with  the  fervor  of  youthful 
enthusiasm  for  his  vocation,  declared  that  "  literature 
fosters  in  its  adherents  a  sympathy  with  all  that  lives 
and  breathes  which  is  more  binding  than  any  form  of 
religion."    A  more  recent  thinker,  Mr.  Henry  W.  Mon- 


288  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

tague,  has  finely  said  that  "  The  most  important  func- 
tion of  Christianity  is  not  to  keep  man  from  sinning, 
but  to  widen  the  range  and  increase  the  depth  of  his 
sympathies." 

Judged  by  these  standards,  Bret  Harte  could  not  be 
described  as  an  irreligious  writer.  Who,  more  than  he, 
has  warmed  the  heart  and  suffused  the  eyes  of  his  read- 
ers with  pity  for  the  unfortunate,  with  admiration  for 
the  heroic  ?  "  A  kind  thought  is  a  good  deed,"  re- 
marked an  oriental  sage.  The  doctrine  is  a  dangerous 
one ;  but  if  it  is  true  of  any  man,  it  is  true  of  an  author. 
His  kind  thoughts  live  after  him,  and  they  have  the 
force  and  effect  of  deeds.  Bret  Harte's  stories  are  a 
legacy  to  the  world,  as  full  of  inspiration  as  of  enter- 
tainment. 

It  was  not  by  accident  or  as  the  result  of  mere  literary 
taste  that  he  selected  from  the  chaos  of  California  life 
the  heroic  and  the  pathetic  incidents.  Those  who  know 
California  only  through  his  tales  and  poems  naturally 
think  that  the  aspect  of  it  which  Bret  Harte  presents 
was  the  only  aspect ;  that  the  Pioneer  life  would  have 
impressed  any  other  observer  just  as  it  impressed  him, 
the  single  difference  being  that  Bret  Harte  had  the 
ability  to  report  what  he  saw  and  heard.  But  such  is 
not  the  case.  Bret  Harte's  representation  of  California 
is  true ;  there  is  no  exaggeration  in  it ;  but  there  were 
other  aspects  of  life  there  which  would  have  been 
equally  true.  If  we  were  to  call  up  in  imagination  the 
various  story- writers  of  Bret  Harte's  day,  it  would  be 
easy  to  guess  what  features  of  life  on  the  Golden  Slope 
would  have  attracted  them,  had  they  been  there  in  the 
days  of  the  Pioneers :  how  the  social  peculiarities  of 
San  Francisco,  with  its  flamboyant  demi-monde  and  its 
early  appeal  to  the  divorce  court,  would  have  interested 
one ;  how  the  adventures  of  outlaws  and  robbers  would 
have  filled  the  mind  of  another  ;  and  how  a  third  would 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       289 

have  been  content  to  describe  the  picturesque  traits  of 
the  Spanish  inheritors  of  the  soil. 

Bret  Harte  does  indeed  touch  upon  all  these  points 
and  upon  many  others,  —  not  a  phase  of  California  life 
escaped  him, — but  he  does  not  dwell  upon  them.  His 
main  theme  is  those  heroic  impulses  of  loyalty,  of  chiv- 
alry, of  love,  of  pure  friendship,  which  are  strong  enough 
to  triumph  over  death  and  the  fear  of  death,  and  which, 
nevertheless,  are  often  found  where,  except  to  the  dis- 
cerning eye  of  sympathy,  their  existence  would  be  wholly 
unsuspected. 

For  this  selection  the  world  owes  Bret  Harte  a  debt 
of  gratitude ;  and  none  the  less  because  it  was  made 
instinctively.  The  actions  of  a  really  perfect  character 
would  all  be  instinctive  and  spontaneous.  In  such  a  man 
conscience  and  inclination  would  coincide.  His  taste  and 
his  sense  of  duty  would  be  one  and  the  same  thing.  A 
mean,  an  unkind,  an  unjust  act  would  be  a  solecism  as 
impossible  for  him  as  it  would  be  to  eat  with  his  knife. 
The  struggle  would  have  been  over  before  he  was  born, 
and  his  ancestors  would  have  bequeathed  to  him  a  nature 
in  harmony  with  itself.  The  credit  for  his  good  deeds 
would  belong,  perhaps,  rather  to  his  ancestors  than  to 
himself,  but  we  should  see  in  him  the  perfection  of 
human  nature,  the  final  product  of  a  thousand  imperfect 
natures. 

Something  of  this  spontaneousness  and  finality  be- 
longed to  the  character  of  Bret  Harte.  If  he  was  weak 
in  conviction  and  principle,  he  was  strong  in  instinct.  If 
he  yielded  easily  to  certain  temptations,  he  was  impreg- 
nable to  others,  because  he  was  protected  against  them 
by  the  whole  current  of  his  nature.  It  would  be  as  im- 
possible to  imagine  Bret  Harte  taking  sides  against  the 
oppressed,  as  it  would  be  to  imagine  him  performing  his 
literary  work  in  a  slovenly  manner.  Both  his  good  and 
bad  traits  were  firmly  rooted,  and,  it  may  be,  inextricably 


290  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

mingled.  Mr.  Howells  said  of  him  that  "  If  his  temper- 
ament disabled  him  from  certain  experiences  of  life,  it 
was  the  sure  source  of  what  was  most  delightful  in  his 
personality,  and  perhaps  most  beautiful  in  his  talent." 
Bret  Harte's  stories  are  sufficient  proof  that  he  was  at 
bottom  a  good  man,  although  he  had  grave  faults. 

His  faults,  moreover,  were  those  commonly  found  in 
men  of  genius,  and  for  that  reason  they  should  be  treated 
with  some  tenderness.  When  one  considers  that  the 
whole  progress  of  the  human  race,  mental  and  spiritual, 
as  well  as  mechanical,  is  due  to  the  achievements  of  a 
few  superior  individuals,  whom  the  world  has  agreed  to 
designate  as  men  of  genius, — considering  this,  one 
should  be  slow  to  pronounce  with  anything  like  confi- 
dence or  finality  upon  the  character  of  one  who  belongs 
in  that  class.  We  know  that  such  men  are  different  from 
other  men  intellectually,  and  we  might  expect  to  find, 
and  we  do  find  that  they  are  different  from  them  emo- 
tionally, if  not  morally.  A  certain  egotism,  for  example, 
is  notoriously  associated  with  men  of  genius  ;  and  a  kind 
of  egotistic  or  unconscious  selfishness  was  Bret  Harte's 
great  defect. 

Popular  opinion,  a  safe  guide  in  such  matters,  has  al- 
ways recognized  the  fact  that  the  genius  is  a  species  by 
himself.  It  is  only  the  clever  men  of  talent  who  have 
discovered  that  there  is  no  essential  difference  between 
men  of  genius  and  themselves.  Writers  of  this  descrip- 
tion might  be  named  who  have  summed  up  Bret  Harte's 
life  and  character  with  amazing  condescension  and  self- 
assurance.  Meagre  as  are  the  known  facts  of  his  career, 
especially  those  relating  to  his  private  life,  these  critics 
have  assigned  his  motives  and  judged  his  conduct  with  a 
freedom  and  a  certainty  which  they  would  hardly  feel  in 
respect  to  their  own  intimates. 

The  very  absence  of  information  about  Bret  Harte 
makes  misconstruction  easy.  Why  he  lived  apart  from 


BRET  HARTE  IN  LONDON       291 

his  family,  why  he  lived  in  England,  why  he  continued 
to  draw  his  subjects  from  California,  —  these  are  matters 
as  to  which  the  inquisitive  world  would  have  been  glad 
to  be  informed,  but  as  to  which  he  thought  it  more  fit- 
ting to  keep  silence  ;  and  from  that  silence  no  amount  of 
misrepresentation  could  move  him.  Mr.  Pemberton  has 
recorded  the  congenial  scorn  with  which  Bret  Harte  used 
to  repeat  the  motto  upon  the  coat  of  arms  of  some  Scot- 
tish earl.   They  say  !   What  say  they  ?  Let  them  say  ! 

And  yet,  if  a  writer  has  greatly  moved  or  pleased  us, 
we  have  a  natural  desire,  especially  after  his  death,  to 
know  what  manner  of  man  he  was.  Most  of  all,  we  long 
to  ask  that  familiar  question,  the  only  question  which,  at 
the  close  of  a  career,  seems  to  have  any  relevance  or 
importance,  —  Was  he  a  good  man  }  In  the  present  case, 
such  answer  as  this  book  can  give  has  already  been 
made ;  and  if  any  Reader  should  be  inclined  to  a  differ- 
ent conclusion,  let  him  weigh  well  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  Bret  Harte's  life,  and  make  due  allowance  for 
the  obscurity  in  which  his  motives  are  veiled. 

Upon  one  aspect  of  his  career  there  can  be  no  differ- 
ence of  opinion.  His  devotion  to  his  art  was  unwaver- 
ing and  extreme.  Pagan  though  he  may  have  been  in 
some  respects,  in  this  matter  he  was  as  conscientious  a 
Puritan  as  Hawthorne  himself.  Every  plot,  every  charac- 
ter, every  sentence,  one  might  almost  say,  every  word  in 
his  books,  was  subjected  to  his  own  relentless  criticism. 
The  manuscript  that  Bret  Harte  consigned  to  the  waste- 
basket  would  have  made  the  reputation  of  another  au- 
thor. No  "pot-boiler"  ever  came  from  his  hand,  and, 
whatever  his  pecuniary  difficulties,  he  never  dreamed  of 
escaping  from  them  by  that  dashing-off  of  salable  sto- 
ries which  is  a  common  practice  among  popular  writers 
of  fiction. 

Such  he  was  at  the  beginning,  and  such  he  continued 
to  be  until  the  end.  Six  months  elapsed,  after  the  publi- 


292  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

cation  of  his  first  successful  story,  before  Bret  Harte 
made  his  second  appearance  in  the  "  Overland  Monthly." 
His  friends  in  California  have  given  us  a  picture  of  him, 
a  youthful  author  in  his  narrow  office  at  the  Mint,  slowly 
and  painfully  elaborating  those  masterpieces  that  made 
him  famous.  It  was  the  same  forty  years  afterward  when 
the  fatal  illness  overtook  him  at  his  desk  in  an  English 
country-house.  The  pen  that  dropped  from  his  reluctant 
fingers  had  been  engaged  in  writing  and  re-writing  the 
simple,  opening  sentences  of  a  story  that  was  never  to 
be  finished. 

Bret  Harte  was  one  of  that  select  band  to  whom  the 
gods  have  vouchsafed  a  glimpse  of  perfection.  All  his 
life,  from  mere  boyhood,  he  was  inspired  by  a  vision  of 
that  ideal  beauty  which  is  at  once  the  joy  and  the  de- 
spair of  the  true  artist.  Whoever  realizes  that  vision, 
even  though  in  an  imperfect  manner,  has  overcome  the 
limitations  of  time  and  space,  and  has  obtained  a  posi- 
tion among  the  immortals  which  may  be  denied  to  better 
and  even  greater  men. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BRET   HARTE   AS   A   WRITER   OF   FICTION 

Bret  Harte's  faculty  was  not  so  much  that  of  imagin- 
ing as  of  apprehending  human  character.  Some  writers 
of  fiction,  those  who  have  the  highest  form  of  creative 
imagination,  are  able  from  their  own  minds  to  spin  the 
web  and  woof  of  the  characters  that  they  describe;  and 
it  makes  small  difference  where  they  live  or  what  liter- 
ary material  lies  about  them.  Even  these  authors  do 
not  create  their  heroes  and  heroines  quite  out  of  whole 
cloth,  —  they  have  a  shred  or  two  to  begin  with ;  but 
their  work  is  mainly  the  result  of  creation  rather  than 
perception. 

The  test  of  creative  imagination  is  that  the  characters 
portrayed  by  it  are  subjected  to  various  exigencies  and 
influences :  they  grow,  develop,  yes,  even  change,  and 
yet  retain  their  consistency.  There  is  a  masterly  example 
of  this  in  Trollope's  "  Small  House  at  Allington,"  where 
he  depicts  the  slow,  astounding,  and  yet  perfectly  natu- 
ral disintegration  of  Crosby's  moral  character.  The  after- 
math of  love-making  between  Pendennis  and  Blanche 
Amory  is  another  instance.  This  has  been  called  by 
one  critic  the  cleverest  thing  in  all  Thackeray;  but  still 
more  clever,  though  clever  is  too  base  a  word  for  an  ep- 
isode so  beautifully  conceived,  is  that  dawning  of  passion, 
hopeless  and  quickly  quenched,  between  Laura  Penden- 
nis and  George  Warrington,  the  two  strongest  charac- 
ters in  the  booko  Only  the  hand  of  creative  genius  can 
guide  its  characters  safely  through  such  labyrinths  of 
feeling,  such  back-eddies  of  emotion. 

A  few  great  novels  have  indeed  been  written  by  au- 


294  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

thors  who  did  not  possess  this  faculty,  especially  by 
Dickens,  in  whom  it  was  conspicuously  lacking ;  but  no 
long  story  was  ever  produced  without  betraying  its  au- 
thor's deficiency  in  this  respect  if  the  deficiency  existed. 
Gabriel  Conroyt  Bret  Harte's  only  novel,  is  so  bad  as  a 
whole,  though  abounding  in  gems,  its  characters  are  so 
inconsistent  and  confused,  its  ending  so  incomprehen- 
sible, that  it  produces  upon  the  reader  the  effect  of  a 
nightmare. 

In  fact,  the  nearer  Bret  Harte's  stories  approach  the 
character  of  an  episode  the  better  and  more  dramatic 
they  are.  Of  the  longer  stories,  the  best,  as  everybody 
will  admit,  is  Cressy^  and  that  is  little  more  than  the  ex- 
pansion of  a  single  incident.  As  a  rule,  in  reading  the 
longer  tales,  one  remembers,  as  he  progresses,  that  the 
situations  and  the  events  are  fictitious ;  they  have  not 
the  spontaneous,  inevitable  aspect  which  makes  the 
shorter  tales  impressive.  Tennessee  s  Partner  is  as  his- 
torical as  Robinson  Crusoe.  Bret  Harte  had  something 
of  a  weakness  for  elaborate  plots,  but  they  were  not  in 
his  line.  Plots  and  situations  can  hardly  be  satisfactory 
or  artistic  unless  they  form  the  means  whereby  the 
characters  of  the  persons  in  the  tale  are  developed,  or, 
if  not  developed,  at  least  revealed  to  the  reader.  The 
development  or  the  gradual  revelation  of  character  is 
the  raison  d'etre  for  the  long  story  or  novel. 

But  this  capacity  our  author  seems  to  have  lacked.  It 
might  be  said  that  he  did  not  require  it,  because  his 
characters  appear  to  us  full-fledged  from  the  start.  He 
has,  indeed,  a  wonderful  power  of  setting  them  before 
the  reader  almost  immediately,  and  by  virtue  of  a  few 
masterly  strokes.  After  an  incident  or  two,  we  know  the 
character  ;  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  revealed ;  and  a 
prolongation  of  the  story  would  be  superfluous. 

But  here  we  touch  upon  Bret  Harte's  weakness  as 
a  portrayer  of  human  nature.  It  surely  indicates  some 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  WRITER  OF  FICTION    295 

deficiency  in  a  writer  of  fiction  if  with  the  additional 
scope  afforded  by  a  long  story  he  can  tell  us  no  more 
about  his  people  than  he  is  able  to  convey  by  a  short 
story.  The  deficiency  in  Bret  Harte  was  perhaps  this, 
that  he  lacked  a  profound  knowledge  of  human  nature. 
A  human  being  regarded  as  material  for  a  writer  of  fic- 
tion may  be  divided  into  two  parts.  There  is  that  part, 
the  more  elemental  one,  which  he  shares  with  other  men, 
and  there  is,  secondly,  that  part  which  differentiates  him 
from  other  men.  In  other  words,  he  is  both  a  type  of 
human  nature,  and  a  particular  specimen  with  individual 
variations. 

The  ideal  story-writer  would  be  able  to  master  his  sub- 
ject  in  each  aspect,  and  in  describing  a  single  person  to 
depict  at  once  both  the  nature  of  all  men  and  also  the 
nature  of  that  particular  man.  Shakspere,  Sterne,  Thack- 
eray have  this  power.  Other  writers  can  do  the  one 
thing  but  not  the  other ;  and  in  this  respect  Hawthorne 
and  Bret  Harte  stand  at  opposite  extremes.  Hawthorne 
had  a  profound  knowledge  of  human  nature  ;  but  he  was 
lacking  in  the  capacity  to  hit  off  individual  characteris- 
tics. Arthur  Dimmesdale  and  Hester,  even  Miriam  and 
Hilda,  are  not  real  to  us  in  the  sense  in  which  Colonel 
Newcome  and  Becky  Sharp  are  real.  Hawthorne's  fig- 
ures are  somewhat  spectral ;  they  lack  flesh  and  blood. 
His  forte  was  not  observation  but  reflection.  He  worked 
from  the  inside. 

Bret  Harte,  on  the  other  hand,  worked  from  the  out- 
side. He  had  not  that  faculty,  so  strong  in  Hawthorne, 
of  delving  into  his  own  nature  by  way  of  getting  at  the 
nature  of  other  men  ;  but  he  had  the  faculty  of  sympa- 
thetic observation  which  enabled  him  to  perceive  and 
understand  the  characteristic  traits  that  distinguish  one 
man  from  another. 

Barkers  Luck  and  Three  Partners y  taken  together, 
illustrate  Bret  Harte's  limitations  in  this  respect.  Each 


296  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

of  these  stories  has  Barker  for  its  central  theme,  the 
other  personages  being  little  more  than  foils  to  him.  In 
the  first  story,  Barkers  Luck,  the  plot  is  very  simple, 
the  incidents  are  few,  and  yet  we  have  the  character  of 
the  hero  conveyed  to  us  with  exquisite  effect.  In  Three 
Partners  the  theme  is  elaborated,  a  complicated  plot  is 
introduced,  and  Barker  appears  in  new  relations  and 
situations.  But  we  know  him  no  better  than  we  did 
before.  Barket^s  Luck  covered  the  ground  ;  and  Three 
Partners,  a  more  ambitious  story,  is  far  below  it  in 
verisimilitude  and  in  dramatic  effect.  In  the  same  way, 
M'lisSy  in  its  original  form,  is  much  superior  to  the 
longer  and  more  complex  story  which  its  author  wrote 
some  years  afterward,  and  which  is  printed  in  the  col- 
lected edition  of  his  works,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  earlier 
tale. 

In  one  case,  however,  Bret  Harte  did  succeed  in  show- 
ing the  growth  and  development  of  a  character.  The  tri- 
logy known  as  A  Waif  of  the  Plains,  Susy,  and  Clarence, 
is  almost  the  same  as  one  long  story  ;  and  in  it  the  char- 
acter of  Clarence,  from  boyhood  to  maturity,  is  skilfully 
and  consistently  traced.  Upon  this  character  Bret  Harte 
evidently  bestowed  great  pains,  and  there  are  some  not- 
able passages  in  his  delineation  of  it,  especially  the  ac- 
count of  the  duel  between  Clarence  and  Captain  Pinck- 
ney.  Not  less  surprising  to  Clarence  himself  than  to  the 
reader  is  the  calm  ferocity  with  which  he  kills  his  an- 
tagonist ;  and  we  share  the  thrill  of  horror  which  ran 
through  the  little  group  of  spectators  when  it  was  whis- 
pered about  that  this  gentlemanly  young  man,  so  far  re- 
moved in  appearance  from  a  fire-eater,  was  the  son  of 
Hamilton  Brant,  the  noted  duellist.  The  situation  had 
brought  to  the  surface  a  deep-lying,  inherited  trait,  of 
which  even  its  possessor  had  been  ignorant.  In  this 
character,  certainly  in  this  incident,  Bret  Harte  goes 
somewhat  deeper  than  his  wont. 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  WRITER  OF  FICTION    297 

We  have  his  own  testimony  to  the  fact  that  his  genius 
was  perceptive  rather  than  creative.  In  those  Scotch 
stories  and  sketches  in  which  the  Consul  appears,  very 
much  in  the  capacity  of  a  Greek  chorus,  the  author  lets 
fall  now  and  then  a  remark  plainly  autobiographical  in 
character.  Thus,  in  A  Rose  of  Glenbogiey  speaking  of 
Mrs.  Deeside,  he  says,  "  The  Consul,  more  perceptive 
than  analytical,  found  her  a  puzzle." 

This  confirms  Bret  Harte's  other  statement,  made 
elsewhere,  that  his  characters,  instead  of  being  imagined, 
were  copied  from  life.  But  they  were  copied  with  the 
insight  and  the  emphasis  of  genius.  The  ability  to  read 
human  nature  is  about  the  most  rare  of  mental  posses- 
sions. How  little  do  we  know  even  of  those  whom  we 
see  every  day,  and  whom,  perhaps,  we  have  lived  with 
all  our  lives !  Let  a  man  ask  himself  what  his  friend  or 
his  wife  or  his  son  would  do  in  some  supposable  emer- 
gency;  how  they  would  take  this  or  that  injury  or  af- 
front, good  fortune  or  bad  fortune,  great  sorrow  or  great 
happiness,  the  defection  of  a  friend,  a  strong  temptation. 
Let  him  ask  himself  any  such  question,  and,  in  all  proba- 
bility, he  will  be  forced  to  admit  that  he  does  not  know 
what  would  be  the  result.  Who,  remembering  his  col- 
lege or  schoolboy  days,  will  fail  to  recognize  the  truth 
of  Thoreau's  remark,  "  One  may  discover  a  new  side  to 
his  most  intimate  friend  when  for  the  first  time  he  hears 
him  speak  in  public  "  ! 

These  surprises  occur  not  because  human  nature  is 
inconsistent,  —  the  law  of  character  is  as  immutable  as 
any  other  law  ;  — it  is  because  individual  character  eludes 
us.  But  it  did  not  elude  Bret  Harte.  He  had  a  wonderful 
faculty  both  for  understanding  and  remembering  its  out- 
ward manifestations.  His  genius  was  akin  to  that  of  the 
actor ;  and  this  explains,  perhaps,  his  lifelong  desire  to 
write  a  successful  play.  Mr.  Watts-Dunton  has  told  us 
with  astonishment  how  Bret  Harte,  years  after  a  visit  to 


298  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

one  of  the  London  Music  Halls,  minutely  recounted  all 
that  he  had  heard  and  seen  there,  and  imitated  all  the 
performers.  That  he  would  have  made  a  great  actor  in 
the  style  of  Joseph  Jefferson  is  the  opinion  of  that  ac- 
complished critic. 

The  surprising  quickness  with  which  he  seized  and  as- 
similated any  new  form  of  dialect  was  a  kind  of  dramatic 
capacity.  The  Spanish-English,  mixed  with  California 
slang,  which  Enriquez  Saltello  spoke,  is  as  good  in  its  way 
as  the  immortal  Costigan's  Irish-English.  "  '  To  confer 
then  as  to  thees  horse,  which  is  not  —  observe  me  —  a 
Mexican  plug.  Ah,  no !  you  can  your  boots  bet  on  that. 
She  is  of  Castilian  stock  —  believe  me  and  strike  me  dead  ! 
I  will  myself  at  different  times  overlook  and  affront  her 
in  the  stable,  examine  her  as  to  the  assault,  and  why 
she  should  do  thees  thing.  When  she  is  of  the  exercise 
I  will  also  accost  and  restrain  her.  Remain  tranquil, 
my  friend !  When  a  few  days  shall  pass  much  shall  be 
changed,  and  she  will  be  as  another.  Trust  your  oncle  to 
do  thees  thing  !  Comprehend  me  ?  Everything  shall  be 
lovely,  and  the  goose  hang  high.'  " 

Bret  Harte's  short  stay  in  Prussia,  and  later  in  Scot- 
land, enabled  him  to  grasp  the  peculiarities  of  nature 
and  speech  belonging  to  the  natives.  Peter  Schroeder, 
the  idealist,  could  have  sprung  to  life  nowhere  except 
upon  German  soil.  "  Peter  pondered  long  and  perplex- 
edly. Gradually  an  explanation  slowly  evolved  itself  from 
his  profundity.  He  placed  his  finger  beside  his  nose,  and 
a  look  of  deep  cunning  shone  in  his  eyes.  *  Dot 's  it,'  he 
said  to  himself  triumphantly,  '  dot  *s  shoost  it !  Der  Re- 
booplicans  don't  got  no  memories.  Ve  don't  got  nodings 
else.'" 

What  character  could  be  more  Scotch,  and  less  any- 
thing else,  than  the  porter  at  the  railway  station  where 
the  Consul  alighted  on  his  way  to  visit  the  MacSpaddens. 
"  *  Ye  *11  no  be  rememberin'  me.  I  had  a  machine  in  St. 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  WRITER  OF  FICTION    299 

Kentigern  and  drove  ye  to  MacSpadden's  ferry  often. 
Far,  far  too  often !  She 's  a  strange,  flagrantitious  crea- 
ture; her  husband's  but  a  puir  fule,  I'm  thinkin',  and 
ye  did  yersel'  nae  guid  gaunin*  there.'  " 

Mr.  Callender,  again,  Ailsa's  father,  in  Young  Robin 
Grayy  breathes  Scotch  Calvinism  and  Scotch  thrift  and 
self-respect  in  every  line. 

'*  *  Have  you  had  a  cruise  in  the  yacht  ?'  asked  the  Con- 
sul. 

"'Ay,'  said  Mr.  Callender,  *  we  have  been  up  and 
down  the  loch,  and  around  the  far  point,  but  not  for 
boardin'  or  lodgin'  the  night,  nor  otherwise  conteenuing 
or  parteecipating.  .  .  .  Mr.  Gray  's  a  decent  enough  lad, 
and  not  above  instruction,  but  extraordinar'  extrava- 
gant.'  " 

Even  the  mysteries  of  Franco-English  seem  to  have 
been  fathomed  by  Bret  Harte,  possibly  by  his  contact 
with  French  people  in  San  Francisco.  This  is  how  the 
innkeeper  explained  to  Alkali  Dick  some  peculiarities  of 
French  custom  :  "  '  For  you  comprehend  not  the  posi- 
tion of  lajeunefille  in  all  France  !  Ah  !  in  America  the 
young  lady  she  go  everywhere  alone ;  I  have  seen  her  — 
pretty,  charming,  fascinating  —  alone  with  the  young 
man.  But  here,  no,  never !  Regard  me,  my  friend.  The 
French  mother,  she  say  to  her  daughter's  fiance,  "  Look ! 
there  is  my  daughter.  She  has  never  been  alone  with  a 
young  man  for  five  minutes,  —  not  even  with  you.  Take 
her  for  your  wife  !  "  It  is  monstrous  !  It  is  impossible  ! 
It  is  so  ! '  " 

The  moral  complement  of  this  rare  capacity  for  read- 
ing human  nature  was  the  sympathy,  the  tenderness  of 
feeling  which  Bret  Harte  possessed.  Sympathy  with  hu- 
man nature,  with  its  weaknesses,  with  the  tragedies  which 
it  is  perpetually  encountering,  and  above  all,  with  its  re- 
deeming virtues, —  this  is  the  keynote  of  Bret  Harte's 
works,  the  mainspring  of  his  humor  and  pathos.  He  had 


300  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

the  gift  of  satire  as  well,  but,  fortunately  for  the  world, 
he  made  far  less  use  of  it.  Satire  is  to  humor  as  corporal 
punishment  is  to  personal  influence.  A  satire  is  a  jest, 
but  a  cutting  one,  —  a  jest  in  which  the  victim  is  held 
up  to  scorn  or  contempt. 

Humor  is  a  much  more  subtle  quality  than  satire.  Like 
satire,  it  is  the  perception  of  an  incongruity,  but  it  must 
be  a  newly  discovered  or  invented  incongruity,  for  an  es- 
sential element  in  humor  is  the  pleasurable  surprise,  the 
gentle  shock  which  it  conveys.  A  New  Jersey  farmer 
was  once  describing  in  the  presence  of  a  very  humane 
person,  the  great  age  and  debility  of  a  horse  that  he  had 
formerly  owned  and  used.  "You  ought  to  have  killed 
him ! "  interrupted  the  humane  person  indignantly. 
"Well,"  drawled  the  farmer,  "we  did,  —  almost."  Satire 
is  merely  destructive,  whereas  sentiment  is  constructive. 
The  most  that  satire  can  do  is  to  show  how  the  thing 
ought  not  to  be  done.  But  sentiment  goes  much  further, 
for  it  supplies  the  dynamic  power  of  affection.  Becky 
Sharp  dazzles  and  amuses ;  but  Colonel  Newcome  soft- 
ens and  inspires. 

There  is  often  in  Bret  Harte  a  subtle  blending  of  sat- 
ire and  humor,  notably  in  that  masterpiece  of  satirical 
humor,  the  Heathen  Chinee.  The  poet  beautifully  depicts 
the  naYve  indignation  of  the  American  gambler  at  the 
duplicity  of  the  Mongolian,  —  a  duplicity  exceeding  even 
his  own.  "  *We  are  ruined  by  Chinese  cheap  labor !  '  " 

Another  instance  is  that  passage  in  The  Rose  of  Tuol- 
umnej  where  the  author,  after  relating  how  a  stranger 
was  shot  and  nearly  killed  in  a  mining  town,  records  the 
prevailing  impression  in  the  neighborhood  "  that  his  mis- 
fortune was  the  result  of  the  defective  moral  quality  of 
his  being  a  stranger."  So,  in  The  Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat, 
when  the  punishment  of  Mr.  Oakhurst  was  under  con- 
sideration, "  A  few  of  the  Committee  had  urged  hanging 
him  as  a  possible  example  and  a  sure  method  of  reimburs- 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  WRITER  OF  FICTION    301 

ing  themselves  from  his  pockets  of  the  money  he  had  won 
from  them.  *  It  *s  agin  justice,'  said  Jim  Wheeler,  *  to  let 
this  yer  young  man  from  Roaring  Camp  —  an  entire 
stranger  —  carry  away  our  money.'  But  a  crude  senti- 
ment of  equity  residing  in  the  breasts  of  those  who  had 
been  fortunate  enough  to  win  from  Mr.  Oakhurst  over- 
ruled this  narrower  local  prejudice." 

Even  in  these  passages  humor  predominates  over  sat- 
ire. In  fact,  —  and  it  is  a  fact  characteristic  of  Bret 
Harte,  —  the  only  satire,  pure  and  simple,  in  his  works 
is  that  which  he  directs  against  hypocrisy.  This  was 
the  one  fault  which  he  could  not  forgive  ;  and  he  espe- 
cially detested  that  peculiar  form  of  cold  and  calculating 
hypocrisy  which  occasionally  survives  as  the  dregs  of 
Puritanism.  Bret  Harte  was  keenly  alive  to  this  aspect 
of  New  England  character ;  and  he  has  depicted  it  with 
almost  savage  intensity  in  T/ie  Argonauts  of  North  Lib- 
erty. Ezekiel  Corwin,  a  shrewd,  flinty,  narrow  Yankee,  is 
not  a  new  figure  in  literature,  but  an  old  figure  in  one 
or  two  new  situations,  notably  in  his  appearance  at  the 
mining  camps  as  a  vender  of  patent  medicines.  **That 
remarkably  unfair  and  unpleasant-spoken  man  had  actu- 
ally frozen  Hanley's  Ford  into  icy  astonishment  at  his 
audacity,  and  he  had  sold  them  an  invoice  of  the  Panacea 
before  they  had  recovered  ;  he  had  insulted  Chipitas  into 
giving  an  extensive  order  in  bitters ;  he  had  left  Hay- 
ward's  Creek  pledged  to  Burne's  pills  —  with  drawn  re- 
volvers still  in  their  hands." 

Even  here,  however,  the  bitterness  of  the  satire  is 
tempered  by  the  humor  of  the  situation.  But  in  Joan, 
the  heroine  of  the  story,  we  have  a  really  new  figure  in 
literature,  and  it  is  drawn  with  an  absence  of  sympathy, 
of  humor  and  of  mitigating  circumstances  which  is  very 
rare,  if  not  unique,  in  Bret  Harte.^ 

One  other  example  of  pure  satire  may  be  found  in  his 

1  See  ante^  page  245. 


^02  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

works,  and  that  is  Parson  Wynn,  the  effusive,  boister- 
ous hypocrite  who  plays  a  subordinate  part  in  The  Car- 
qui7iez  Woods}  With  these  few  exceptions,  however,  Bret 
Harte  was  a  writer  of  sentiment,  and  that  is  the  secret 
of  his  power.  Sentiment  may  take  the  form  of  humor  or 
of  pathos,  and,  as  is  often  remarked,  these  two  qualities 
shade  off  into  each  other  by  imperceptible  degrees. 

Some  things  are  of  that  nature  as  to  make 
One's  fancy  chuckle,  while  his  heart  doth  ache. 

A  consummate  example  of  this  blending  of  humor 
and  pathos  is  found  in  the  story  How  Santa  Claus  Came 
to  Simpsons  Bar.  The  boy  Johnny,  after  greeting  the 
Christmas  guests  in  his  "  weak,  treble  voice,  broken  by 
that  premature  harshness  which  only  vagabondage  and 
the  habit  of  premature  self-assertion  can  give,"  and  after 
hospitably  setting  out  the  whiskey  bottle,  with  crackers 
and  cheese,  creeps  back  to  bed,  and  is  thus  accosted  by 
Dick  Bullen,  the  hero  of  the  story  :  — 

"  *  Hello,  Johnny  !  You  ain't  goin'  to  turn  in  agin,  are 
ye?' 

"  *  Yes,  I  are,'  responded  Johnny  decidedly. 

"  *  Why,  wot 's  up,  old  fellow? ' 

"  *  I'm  sick.' 

"  '  How  sick  ?  * 

" '  I  'vegot  a  fevier,  and  childblains,  and  roomatiz,'  re- 
turned Johnny,  and  vanished  within.  After  a  moment's 
pause  he  added  in  the  dark,  apparently  from  under  the 
bedclothes,  —  *  And  biles  ! ' 

"There  was  an  embarrassing  silence.  The  men  looked 
at  each  other  and  at  the  fire." 

How  graphically  in  this  story  are  the  characters  of  the 
Old  Man  and  his  boy  Johnny  indicated  by  a  few  strokes 
of  humor  and  pathos  !  Perhaps  this  is  the  greatest  charm 
of  humor  in  literature,  namely,  that  it  so  easily  becomes 

1  See  ante^  page  209. 


.   BRET  HARTE  AS  A  WRITER  OF  FICTION    303 

the  vehicle  of  character.  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  and  the 
Vicar  of  Wakefield  are  revealed  to  us  mainly  by  those 
humorous  touches  which  display  the  foibles,  the  eccen- 
tricities, and  even  the  virtues  of  each.  Wit,  on  the  other 
hand,  being  a  purely  intellectual  quality,  is  a  compara- 
tively uninteresting  gift.  How  small  is  the  part  that  wit 
plays  in  literature  !  Personality  is  the  charm  of  litera- 
ture, as  it  is  of  life,  and  humor  is  always  a  revelation  of 
personality.  The  Essays  of  Lamb  amount  almost  to  an 
autobiography.  Goldsmith  had  humor,  Congreve  wit; 
and  probably  that  is  the  main  reason  why  "  She  Stoops 
to  Conquer"  still  holds  the  stage,  whereas  the  plays  of 
Congreve  are  known  only  to  the  scholar. 

California  was  steeped  in  humor,  and  none  but  a  hu- 
morist could  have  interpreted  the  lives  of  the  Pioneers. 
They  were,  in  the  main,  scions  of  a  humorous  race.  De- 
mocracy is  the  mother  of  humor,  and  the  ideal  of  both 
was  found  in  New  England  and  in  the  Western  States, 
whence  came  the  greater  part  of  the  California  immigra- 
tion. In  passing  from  New  England  to  the  isolated  farms 
of  the  Far  West,  American  humor  had  undergone  some 
change.  The  Pioneer,  struggling  with  a  new  country, 
and  often  with  chills  and  fever,  religious  in  a  gloomy, 
emotional,  old-fashioned  way,  leading  a  lonely  life,  had 
developed  a  humor  more  saturnine  than  that  of  New  Eng- 
land. Yuba  Bill,  in  all  probability,  was  an  emigrant  from 
what  we  now  call  the  Middle  West.  Upon  this  New  Eng- 
land and  Western  humor  as  a  foundation,  California  en- 
grafted its  own  peculiar  type  of  humor,  which  was  the 
product  of  youth,  courage  and  energy  wrestling  with 
every  kind  of  difficulty  and  danger.  The  Pioneers  had 
something  of  the  Mark  Tapley  spirit,  and  triumphed 
over  fate  by  making  a  jest  of  the  worst  that  fate  could 
do  to  them. 

Nothing  short  of  great  prosperity  could  awe  the  miner 
into  taking  a  serious  view  of  things.  His  solemnity  after 


304  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

a  "strike"  was  remarkable.  In  '52  and  '53  a  company  of 
miners  had  toiled  fruitlessly  for  fourteen  months,  dig- 
ging into  solid  rock  which,  from  its  situation  and  from 
many  other  indications,  had  promised  to  be  the  hiding- 
place  of  gold.  At  last  they  abandoned  the  claim  in  de- 
spair, except  that  one  of  their  number  lingered  to  remove 
a  big,  loose  block  of  porphyry  upon  which  he  had  long 
been  working.  Behind  that  block  he  found  sand  and 
gravel  containing  gold  in  such  abundance  as,  eventually, 
to  enrich  the  whole  company.  The  next  day  happened  to 
be  Sunday,  and  for  the  first  time  in  those  fourteen 
months  they  all  went  to  church. 

A  "find"  like  this  was  a  gift  of  the  gods,  something 
that  could  not  be  depended  upon.  It  imposed  responsi- 
bilities, and  suggested  thoughts  of  home.  But  hardship, 
adversity,  danger  and  sudden  death,  —  these  were  all  in 
the  day's  work,  and  they  could  best  be  endured  by  mak- 
ing light  of  them. 

California  humor  was,  therefore,  in  one  way,  the  re- 
verse of  ordinary  American  humor.  In  place  of  grotesque 
exaggeration,  the  California  tendency  was  to  minimize. 
The  Pioneer  was  as  euphemistic  in  speaking  of  death  as 
was  the  Greek  or  Roman  of  classic  times.  "  To  pass  in 
his  checks,"  was  the  Pacific  Slope  equivalent  for  the 
more  dignified  Actum  est  de  me.  This  was  the  phrase,  as 
the  Reader  will  remember,  that  Mr.  Oakhurst  immortal- 
ized by  writing  it  on  the  playing  card  which,  affixed  to 
a  bowie-knife,  served  that  famous  gambler  for  tombstone 
and  epitaph.  He  used  it  in  no  flippant  spirit,  but  in  the 
sadly  humorous  spirit  of  the  true  Calif ornian,  as  if  he 
were  loath  to  attribute  undue  importance  to  the  mere 
fact  that  the  unit  of  his  own  life  had  been  forever  with- 
drawn from  the  sum  total  of  human  existence. 

Of  this  California  minimizing  humor,  frequent  also  in 
the  pages  of  Mark  Twain  and  Ambrose  Bierce,  there  is 
an  example  in  Bret  Harte's  poem,  Cicely  :  — 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  WRITER  OF  FICTION    30S 

I  've  had  some  mighty  mean  moments  afore  I  kem  to  this  spot,  — 
Lost  on  the  Plains  in  '50,  drownded  almost  and  shot ; 
But  out  on  this  alkali  desert,  a-hunting  a  crazy  wife, 
Was  r'aly  as  on-satis-f actory  as  anything  in  my  life. 

There  is  another  familiar  example  in  these  well-known 
lines  by  Truthful  James  :  — 

Then  Abner  Dean  of  Angels  raised  a  point  of  order,  when 
A  chunk  of  old  red  sandstone  took  him  in  the  abdomen, 
And  he  smiled  a  kind  of  sickly  smile,  and  curled  up  on  the  floor, 
And  the  subsequent  proceedings  interested  him  no  more. 

This  was  typical  California  humor,  and  Bret  Harte,  in 
his  stories  and  poems,  more  often  perhaps  in  the  latter, 
gave  frequent  expression  to  it ;  but  it  was  not  typical 
Bret  Harte  humor.  The  humor  of  the  passage  just  quoted 
from  How  Santa  Claus  Came  to  Simpsons  BaVy  the  hu- 
mor that  made  Bret  Harte  famous,  and  still  more  the 
humor  that  made  him  beloved,  was  not  saturnine  or 
satirical,  but  sympathetic  and  tender.  It  was  humor  not 
from  an  external  point  of  view,  but  from  the  victim's 
point  of  view.  The  Calif ornians  themselves  saw  persons 
and  events  in  a  different  way ;  and  how  imperfect  their 
vision  was  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  they 
stoutly  denied  the  truth  of  Bret  Harte's  descriptions  of 
Pioneer  life.  They  were  too  close  at  hand,  too  much  a 
part  of  the  drama  themselves,  to  perceive  it  correctly. 
Bret  Harte  had  the  faculty  as  to  which  it  is  hard  to  say 
how  much  is  intellectual  and  how  much  is  emotional,  of 
getting  behind  the  scenes,  and  beholding  men  and  mo- 
tives as  they  really  are. 

That  brilliant  critic,  Mr.  G.  K.  Chesterton,  declares 
that  Bret  Harte  was  a  genuine  American,  that  he  was  also 
a  genuine  humorist,  but  that  he  was  not  an  American 
humorist;  and  then  he  proceeds  to  support  this  very  just 
antithesis  as  follows:  "American  humor  is  purely  ex- 
aggerative ;  Bret  Harte's  humor  was  sympathetic  and 
analytical.  The  wild,  sky-breaking  humor  of  America  has 


3o6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

its  fine  qualities,  but  it  must  in  the  nature  of  things  be 
deficient  in  two  qualities,  —  reverence  and  sympathy. 
And  these  two  qualities  were  knit  into  the  closest  tex- 
ture of  Bret  Harte's  humor.  Mark  Twain's  story  .  .  . 
about  an  organist  who  was  asked  to  play  appropriate  mu- 
sic to  an  address  upon  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son, 
and  who  proceeded  to  play  with  great  spirit,  *We'll  all 
get  blind  drunk  when  Johnny  comes  marching  home  '  is 
an  instance.  ...  If  Bret  Harte  had  described  that  scene 
it  would  in  some  subtle  way  have  combined  a  sense  of 
the  absurdity  of  the  incident  with  some  sense  of  the  sub- 
limity and  pathos  of  the  scene.  You  would  have  felt  that 
the  organist's  tune  was  funny,  but  not  that  the  Prodigal 
Son  was  funny." 

No  excuse  need  be  offered  for  quoting  further  what 
Mr.  Chesterton  has  to  say  about  the  parodies  of  Bret 
Harte,  for  it  covers  the  whole  ground :  "  The  supreme 
proof  of  the  fact  that  Bret  Harte  had  the  instinct  of  rev- 
erence may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  he  was  a  really  great 
parodist.  Mere  derision,  mere  contempt,  never  produced 
or  could  produce  parody.  A  man  who  simply  despises 
Paderewski  for  having  long  hair  is  not  necessarily  fitted 
to  give  an  admirable  imitation  of  his  particular  touch  on 
the  piano.  If  a  man  wishes  to  parody  Paderewski's  style 
of  execution,  he  must  emphatically  go  through  one  pro- 
cess first :  he  must  admire  it  and  even  reverence  it.  Bret 
Harte  had  a  real  power  of  imitating  great  authors.  .  .  . 
This  means  and  can  only  mean  that  he  had  perceived  the 
real  beauty,  the  real  ambition  of  Dumas  and  Victor  Hugo 
and  Charlotte  Bronte.  In  his  imitation  of  Hugo,  Bret 
Harte  has  a  passage  like  this:  *M.  Madeline  was,  if  possible, 
better  than  M.  Myriel.  M.  Myriel  was  an  angel.  M.  Made- 
line was  a  good  man.'  I  do  not  know  whether  Victor  Hugo 
ever  used  this  antithesis ;  but  I  am  certain  that  he  would 
have  used  it  and  thanked  his  stars  for  it,  if  he  had  thought 
of  it.  This  is  real  parody,  inseparable  from  imitation." 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  WRITER  OF  FICTION    307 

The  optimism  for  which  Bret  Harte  was  remarkable 
had  its  root  in  that  same  sympathy  which  formed  the 
basis  of  his  humor  and  pathos.  The  unsympathetic  critic 
invariably  despairs  of  mankind  and  the  universe.  This  is 
apparent  in  social,  moral,  and  even  political  matters.  A 
typical  reformer,  such  as  the  late  Mr.  Godkin,  gazing 
horror-struck  at  Tammany  and  the  Tammany  politician, 
discerns  no  hope  for  the  future.  But  the  Tammany  man 
himself,  knowing  the  virtues  as  well  as  the  vices  of  his 
people,  is  optimistic  to  the  point  of  exuberance.  After  all, 
there  is  something  in  the  human  heart,  amid  all  its  vile- 
ness,  which  ranges  mankind  on  the  side  of  the  angels, 
not  of  the  devils.  The  sympathetic  critic  perceives  this, 
and  therefore  he  has  confidence  in  the  future  of  the  race; 
and  may  even  indulge  the  supreme  hope  that  from  this 
terrible  world  we  shall  pass  into  another  and  better  state 
of  existence. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

BRET   HARTE  AS   A  POET 

Whether  Bret  Harte  will  make  his  appeal  to  posterity 
mainly  as  a  poet  or  as  a  prose  writer  is  a  difficult  question, 
upon  which,  as  upon  all  similar  matters  relating  to  him, 
the  critics  have  expressed  the  most  diverse  opinions. 
There  is  perhaps  more  unevenness  in  his  poetry  than  in 
his  prose,  and  certainly  more  facility  in  imitating  other 
writers.  Cadet  Grey  is,  in  form,  almost  a  parody  of  "Don 
Juan."  The  Angelus  might  be  ascribed  to  Longfellow 
(though  he  never  could  have  written  that  last  stanza),  The 
Tale  of  a  Pony  to  Saxe  or  Barham,  a  few  others  to  Praed, 
one  to  Campbell,  and  one  to  Calverley.  Even  that  very 
beautiful  poem,  Concepcion  de  Arguello,  a  thing  almost 
perfect  in  its  way,  strikes  no  new  note.  And  yet  who  could 
forget  the  picture  which  it  draws  of  the  deserted  maiden, 
grieving,— 

Until  hollows  chased  the  dimples  from  her  cheeks  of  olive  brown, 
And  at  times  a  swift,  shy  moisture  dragged  the  long  sweet  lashes 
down. 

Hardly  less  pathetic  is  the  description  of  the  grim  Com- 
mander, her  father,  striving  vainly  to  comfort  the  maid 
with  "proverbs  gathered  from  afar,"  until  at  last 

.  .  .  the  voice  sententious  faltered,  and  the  wisdom  it  would  teach 
Lost  itself  in  fondest  trifles  of  his  soft  Castilian  speech ; 

And  on  "  Concha,"  "  Conchitita,"  and  "  Conchita,"  he  would  dwell 
With  the  fond  reiteration  which  the  Spaniard  knows  so  well. 

So  with  proverbs  and  caresses,  half  in  faith  and  half  in  doubt, 
Every  day  some  hope  was  kindled,  flickered,  faded,  and  went  out. 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  POET  '  309 

Few,  indeed,  are  the  poets  who  have  surpassed  the  ten- 
der simplicity  and  pathos  of  these  lines ;  and  yet  there 
is  nothing  very  original  about  them  either  in  form  or 
substance.  But  there  are  several  poems  by  Bret  Harte, 
perhaps  half  a  dozen,  which  do  bear  the  mark  of  origi- 
nal genius,  and  which,  from  the  perfection  of  their  form, 
seem  destined  to  last  forever. 

The  Heathen  Chinee^  little  as  Bret  Harte  himself 
thought  of  it,  is  certainly  one  of  these.  This  poem,  says 
Mr.  James  Douglas,  "is  merely  an  anecdote,  an  American 
anecdote,  not  more  deeply  humorous  than  a  hundred  other 
American  anecdotes.  But  it  is  cast  in  an  imperishable 
mould  of  style.  .  .  .  Mr.  Swinburne's  noble  rhythm  sang 
itself  into  his  soul,  and  he  gave  it  forth  again  in  an  incon- 
gruously comic  theme.  The  rhythm  of  a  melancholy  dirge 
became  the  rhythm  of  duplicity  in  the  garb  of  innocence. 
The  sadness  and  the  sighing  of  Meleagar  became  the 
bland  iniquity  of  Ah  Sin,  and  the  indignantly  injured  de- 
pravity of  Bill  Nye.  It  was  a  miracle  of  humorous  coun- 
terpoint, a  marvel  of  incongruously  associated  ideas." 

Too  much,  however,  can  easily  be  made  of  the  part 
played  by  the  metre  of  the  Heathen  Chinee.  Artemis  in 
Sierra  is  as  good  in  its  way  as  the  Heathen  Chinee^  and 
the  very  different  metre  employed  in  that  poem  is  made 
equally  effective  as  the  vehicle  of  irony  and  burlesque. 

Mr.  Douglas  goes  on  to  say  that  the  Atalanta  metre 
failed  in  the  poem  called  Dow's  Flat,  "because  there 
was  no  exquisite  discord  between  the  sound  and  the 
sense,  between  the  rhyme  and  the  reason." 

But  did  it  fail }  Let  these  two  specimen  stanzas  an- 
swer ;  — 

For  a  blow  of  his  pick 

Sorter  caved  in  the  side, 
And  he  looked  and  turned  sick, 
Then  he  trembled  and  cried. 
For  you  see  the  dern  cuss  had  struck  —  "Water?"  —  Beg  yoUr 
parding,  young  man,  —there  you  lied ! 


3IO  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

It  was  gold^  —  in  the  quartz, 

And  it  ran  all  alike  ; 
And  I  reckon  five  oughts 

Was  the  worth  of  that  strike ; 
And  that  house  with  the  coopilow  's  his'n,  —  which  the 
same  is  n't  bad  for  a  Pike. 

Almost  all  of  Bret  Harte's  dialect  poems  have  this 
same  perfection  of  form,  and  in  the  whole  range  of  liter- 
ature it  would  be  difficult  to  find  any  verses  which  tell 
so  much  in  so  small  a  compass.  The  poems  are  short, 
the  lines  are  usually  short,  the  words  are  short ;  but  with 
the  few  strokes  thus  available,  the  poet  paints  a  picture 
as  complete  as  it  is  vivid.  The  thing  is  so  simple  that  it 
seems  easy,  and  yet  where  shall  we  find  its  counterpart.? 

These  poems  not  only  please  for  the  moment,  but 
they  are  read  with  pleasure  over  and  over  again,  and 
year  after  year.  Perhaps  their  most  striking  quality  is 
their  dramatic  quality.  They  tell  a  story,  and  often  de- 
pict a  person.  Truthful  James,  for  example,  is  known  to 
us  only  as  the  narrator  of  a  few  startling  tales ;  and  yet 
even  by  his  manner  of  telling  them  he  gives  us  a  fair 
notion  of  his  own  character.  The  opening  lines  of  The 
Spelling  Bee  at  Angels  are  an  example :  — 

Waltz  in,  waltz  in,  ye  little  kids,  and  gather  round  my  knee, 

And  drop  them  books  and  first  pot-hooks,  and  hear  a  yarn  from 

me. 
I  kin  not  sling  a  fairy  tale  of  Jinny s  fierce  and  wild. 
For  I  hold  it  is  unchristian  to  deceive  a  simple  child  ; 
But  as  from  school  yer  driftin'  by,  I  thowt  ye  'd  like  to  hear 
Of  a  "  Spelling  Bee  "  at  Angels  that  we  organized  last  year. 

As  for  Miss  Edith,  her  character  is  shown  in  every  line. 

You  think  it  ain't  true  about  Ilsey?    Well,  I  guess  I  know  girls, 

and  I  say 
There's  nothing  I  see  about  Ilsey  to  show  she  likes  you,  anyway ! 
I  know  what  it  means  when  a  girl  who  has  called  her  cat  after  one 

boy 
Goes  and  changes  its  name  to  another's.  And  she  's  done  it —  and 

I  wish  you  joy ! 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  POET  311 

But  these  dramatic  poems  of  Bret  Harte  are  surpassed 
by  his  lyrical  poems,  —  surpassed,  at  least,  in  respect  to 
that  moral  elevation  which  lyrical  poetry  seems  to  have 
in  comparison  with  dramatic  poetry.  Lyrical  poetry 
strikes  the  higher  note.  It  is  the  fusion  in  the  poet's 
own  experience  of  thought  and  feeling ;  —  it  is  his  ex- 
perience ;  a  first-hand  report  of  one  man's  impression 
of  the  universe.  Whereas  dramatic  poetry,  with  all  the 
splendor  of  which  it  is  capable,  is,  after  all,  only  a  second- 
hand report,  a  representation  of  what  other  men  have 
thought  or  felt,  or  said  or  done.  Not  Shakspere  himself 
has  so  elevated  mankind,  raised  his  moral  standard,  or 
enlarged  his  conceptions  of  the  universe,  as  have  the 
great  lyrical  poets. 

Bret  Harte  cannot,  of  course,  be  ranked  with  these; 
nor,  in  saying  that  his  lyrical  poems  are  his  best  poems, 
do  we  necessarily  assert  for  him  any  high  degree  of  lyr- 
ical power.  Perhaps,  indeed,  the  chief  defect  in  his  poetry 
is  an  absence  of  the  personal  or  lyrical  element.  He  gives 
us  exquisite  impressions  of  human  character  and  of  na- 
ture, but  there  is  little  of  that  brooding,  reflective  qual- 
ity, which  affords  the  deepest  and  most  lasting  charm  of 
poetry.  His  poetry  lacks  atmosphere;  it  lacks  the  pen- 
sive, religious  note. 

Bret  Harte,  one  would  think,  must  have  been  a  ro- 
mantic and  imaginative  lover,  and  yet  in  his  poetry  there 
is  little,  if  anything,  to  indicate  that  he  was  ever  deeply 
in  love.  Of  romantic  devotion  to  a  woman,  as  to  a 
superior  being,  we  find  no  trace  either  in  his  stories  or 
in  ^lis  poetry.  How  far  removed  from  Bret  Harte  is  that 
mingled  feeling  of  love  and  veneration  which,  originat- 
ing in  the  Middle  Ages,  has  lasted,  in  poetry  at  least, 
almost  down  to  our  own  time,  as  in  these  lines  from  a 
writer  who  was  contemporary  with  Bret  Harte  :  — 

When  thy  cheek  is  dewed  with  tears 
On  some  dark  day  when  friends  depart, 


312  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

When  life  before  thee  seems  all  fears 
And  all  remembrance  one  long  smart, 

Then  in  the  secret  sacred  cell 
Thy  soul  keeps  for  her  hour  of  prayer, 
Breathe  but  my  name,  that  I  may  dwell 
Part  of  thy  worship  alway  there. 

Bret  Harte  was  cast  in  a  different  mould.  No  doubts 
or  fears  distracted  him.  So  far  as  we  know,  he  asked  no 
questions  about  the  universe,  and  troubled  himself  very 
little  about  the  destiny  of  mankind.  He  was  essentially 
unreligious,  unphilosophic,  true  to  his  own  instincts,  but 
indifferent  to  all  matters  that  lay  beyond  them.  And 
yet  within  that  range  he  had  a  depth  and  sincerity  of 
feeling  which  issued  in  real  poetry.  Bret  Harte,  with 
all  the  refinement,  love  of  elegance,  reserve  and  self- 
restraint  which  characterized  him,  was  a  very  natural 
man.  He  possessed  in  full  degree  what  one  philosopher 
has  called  the  primeval  instincts  of  pity,  of  pride,  of 
pugnacity.  He  loved  his  fellow-man,  he  loved  his  coun- 
try, he  loved  nature,  and  these  passions,  curbed  by  that 
unerring  sense  of  artistic  form  and  clothed  in  that  beauty 
of  style  which  belonged  to  him,  were  expressed  in  a  few 
poems  that  seem  likely  to  last  forever.  It  was  not  often 
that  he  felt  the  necessary  stimulus,  but  when  he  did  feel 
it,  the  response  was  sure.  Of  these  immortal  poems,  if  we 
may  make  bold  to  call  them  such,  probably  the  best  known 
is  that  on  the  death  of  Dickens.  This  is  the  last  stanza: — 

And  on  that  grave  where  English  oak  and  holly 

And  laurel  wreaths  entwine, 
Deem  it  not  all  a  too  presumptuous  folly, 

This  spray  of  Western  pine  !  ^ 

»  When  news  of  the  death  of  Dickens  reached  Bret  Harte  he  was 
camping  in  the  Foot-Hills,  far  from  San  Francisco,  but  he  sent  a  tele- 
gram to  hold  back  for  a  day  the  printing  of  the  "  Overland,"  then  ready  for 
the  press,  and  his  poem  was  written  that  night  and  forwarded  the  next 
morning.  A  week  or  two  later  Bret  Harte  received  a  cordial  letter  from 
Dickens,  written  just  before  his  death,  complimenting  the  California 
author,  and  requesting  him  to  write  a  story  for  **  All  the  Year  Round." 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  POET  313 

Still  better  is  the  poem  on  the  death  of  Starr  King. 
It  is  very  short ;  let  us  have  it  before  us. 

RELIEVING  GUARD 

Thomas  Starr  King.    Obiit  March  4,  1864. 

Came  the  relief.  "  What,  sentry,  ho  ! 
How  passed  the  night  through  thy  long  waking?  " 
"  Cold,  cheerless,  dark,  —  as  may  befit 
The  hour  before  the  dawn  is  breaking." 

"  No  sight  ?  no  sound  ?  "  "  No ;  nothing  save 
The  plover  from  the  marshes  calling, 
And  in  yon  western  sky,  about 
An  hour  ago,  a  star  was  falling." 

"  A  star  ?  There  's  nothing  strange  in  that." 

"No,  nothing;  but  above  the  thicket. 
Somehow  it  seemed  to  me  that  God 
Somewhere  had  just  relieved  a  picket." 

What  impresses  the  reader  most,  or  at  least  first,  in 
this  poem  is  its  extreme  conciseness  and  simplicity.  The 
words  are  so  few,  and  the  weight  of  suggestion  which 
they  have  to  carry  so  heavy,  that  the  misuse  of  a  single 
word,  —  a  single  word  not  in  perfect  taste,  would  have 
spoiled  the  beauty  of  the  whole.  Long  years  ago  the 
"Saturday  Review" — the  good  old,  ferocious  Saturday 

—  sagely  remarked :  "  It  is  not  given  to  every  one  to 
be  simple";  and  only  genius  could  have  achieved  the 
simplicity  of  this  short  poem.  "The  relief  came"  would 
have  been  prose.  "  Came  the  relief  "  is  poetry,  not  merely 
because  the  arrangement  of  the  words  is  unusual,  but 
becaus*"^  this  short  inverted  sentence  strikes  a  note  of  ab- 
ruptness and  intensity  which  prepares  the  reader  for  what 
is  to  come,  and  which  is  maintained  throughout  the  poem  ; 

—  had  it  not  so  been  maintained,  an  anti-climax  would 
have  resulted. 

Moreover,  short  and  simple  as  this  poem  is,  it  seems 
to  contain  three  distinct  strands  of  feeling.  There  is, 
first,  the  personal  feeling  for  Thomas  Starr  King ;  and 


314  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

although  he  was  a  minister  and  not  a  soldier,  there  is  a 
suitability  in  connecting  him  with  the  picket,  for,  as  we 
have  seen,  it  was  owing  to  him,  more  than  to  any  other 
man,  that  California  was  saved  to  the  Union  in  the  Civil 
War.  Secondly,  there  is  the  National  patriotic  feeling 
which  forms  the  strong  under-current  of  the  poem,  no- 
where expressed,  but  unmistakably  implied,  and  present 
in  the  minds  of  both  poet  and  reader.  Possibly,  we  may 
even  find  in  **  the  hour  before  the  dawn"  an  allusion  to 
the  period  when  Mr.  King  died  and  the  poem  was  writ- 
ten ;  for  that  was  the  final  desperate  period  of  the  war, 
darkened  by  a  terrible  expenditure  of  human  life  and 
suffering,  and  lightened  only  by  a  prospect  of  the  end 
then  slowly  but  surely  coming  into  view.  Thirdly,  there 
is  the  feeling  for  nature  which  the  poem  exhibits  in  its 
firm  though  scanty  etching  of  the  sombre  night,  the 
lonely  marshes,  and  the  distant  sky.  The  poem  is  a 
blending  of  these  three  feelings,  each  one  enhancing 
the  other  ;  —  and  even  this  does  not  complete  the  tale, 
for  there  is  the  final  suggestion  that  the  death  of  a  man 
may  be  of  as  much  consequence  in  the  mind  of  the 
Creator,  and  as  nicely  calculated,  as  the  falling  of  a  star. 

The  truth  is  that  Bret  Harte's  national  poems,  with 
which  this  tribute  to  Starr  King  may  properly  be  classed, 
have  a  depth  of  personal  feeling  not  often  found  else- 
where in  his  poetry.  In  common  with  all  men  of  primi- 
tive impulses,  he  was  genuinely  patriotic.  "America 
was  always  *  my  country '  with  him,"  writes  one  who 
knew  him  in  England  ;  "and  I  remember  how  he  flushed 
with  almost  boyish  pleasure  when,  in  driving  through 
some  casual  rural  festivities,  his  quick  eye  noted  a  stray 
American  flag  among  the  display  of  bunting." 

This  patriotic  feeling  gave  to  his  national  poems  the 
true  lyrical  note.  Among  the  best  of  these  is  that  stir- 
ring song  of  the  drum,  called  The  Reveille^  which  was 
read  at  a  crowded  meeting  held  in  the  San  Francisco 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  POET  315 

Opera  House  immediately  after  President  Lincoln  had 
called  for  one  hundred  thousand  volunteers.  In  this 
poem  the  student  of  American  history,  and  especially 
the  foreign  student,  will  find  an  expression  of  that 
National  feeling  which  animated  the  Northern  people, 
and  which  sanctified  the  horrors  of  the  Civil  War,  —  one 
of  the  few  wars  recorded  in  history  that  was  waged  for 
a  pure  ideal,  —  the  ideal  of  the  Union. 

With  these  poems  may  be  classed  some  stanzas  from 
Cadet  Grey  describing  the  life  of  the  West  Point  cadet, 
and  this  one  in  particular  :  — 

Within  the  camp  they  lie,  the  young,  the  brave. 
Half  knight,  half  schoolboy,  acolytes  of  fame, 

Pledged  to  one  altar,  and  perchance  one  grave ; 
Bred  to  fear  nothing  but  reproach  and  blame, 

Ascetic  dandies  o'er  whom  vestals  rave. 

Clean-limbed  young  Spartans,  disciplined  young  elves, 

Taught  to  destroy,  that  they  may  live  to  save. 
Students  embattled,  soldiers  at  their  shelves, 
Heroes  whose  conquests  are  at  first  themselves. 

It  has  been  said  that  one  function  of  literature,  and 
especially  of  poetry,  is  to  enable  a  nation  to  understand 
and  appreciate,  and  thus  more  completely  to  realize,  the 
ideals  which  it  has  instinctively  formed  ;  and  in  the  lines 
just  quoted  Bret  Harte  has  done  this  for  West  Point. 

The  poem  on  San  Francisco  glows  with  patriotic  and 
civic  feeling,  and  it  expressed  a  sentiment  which,  at  the 
time  when  it  was  written,  hardly  anybody  in  the  city, 
except  the  poet  himself,  entertained.  San  Francisco  in 
1870  >'as  dominated  by  that  cold,  hard,  self-satisfied, 
commercial  spirit  which  Bret  Harte  especially  hated,  and 
which  furnished  one  reason,  perhaps  the  main  reason, 
for  his  departure  from  the  State. 

Drop  down,  O  fleecy  Fog,  and  hide 
Her  sceptic  sneer  and  all  her  pride ! 

Wrap  her,  O  Fog,  in  gown  and  hood 
Of  her  Franciscan  Brotherhood. 


3i6  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Hide  me  her  faults,  her  sin  and  blame  ; 
With  thy  gray  mantle  cloak  her  shame  ! 

And  yet  it  was  impossible  for  Bret  Harte,  with  his 
deep,  abiding  faith  in  the  good  instincts  of  mankind,  not 
to  look  forward  to  a  better  day  for  San  Francisco, 

When  Art  shall  raise  and  Culture  lift 
The  sensual  joys  and  meaner  thrift, 

And  all  fulfilled  the  vision  we 
Who  watch  and  wait  shall  never  see. 

There  is  also  a  strong  lyrical  element  in  Bret  Harte's 
treatment  of  nature  in  his  poetry,  as  well  as  in  his  prose. 
What  he  always  gives  is  his  own  impression  of  the  scene, 
not  a  mere  description  of  it,  although  this  impression 
may  be  conveyed  by  a  few  slight  touches,  sometimes 
even  by  a  single  word.  The  opening  stanza  of  the  poem 
on  the  death  of  Dickens  is  an  illustration  :  — 

Above  the  pines  the  moon  was  slowly  drifting. 

The  river  sang  below  ; 
The  dim  Sierras,  far  beyond,  uplifting 

Their  minarets  of  snow. 

Ruskin  somewhere  analyzes  the  difference  between 
real  poetry  and  prose  in  a  versified  form,  and  quoting  a 
few  lines  from  Byron,  he  points  out  the  single  word  in 
them  which  makes  the  passage  poetic.  In  the  lines  just 
quoted  from  Bret  Harte,  the  word  "  sang  "  has  the  same 
poetic  quality  ;  and  no  one  who  has  ever  heard  the  sound 
which  the  poet  here  describes  can  fail  to  recognize  the 
truth  of  his  metaphor.^ 

This  is  always  Bret  Harte's  method.  He  reproduces 
the  emotional  effect  of  the  scene  upon  himself,  and  thus 
exhibits  nature  to  the  reader  as  she  appeared  to  him. 
Emotion,  it  need  not  be  said,  is  transmitted  much  more 

*  A  miner,  writing  in  August,  1850,  from  the  Middle  Fork  of  the 
American  River,  said  :  "  When  I  came  up  here,  the  river  was  a  roaring 
torrent,  and  its  sombre  music  could  plainly  be  heard  upon  the  tops  of  the 
mountains  rising  to  a  height  of  about  three  thousand  feet." 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  POET  317 

effectively  than  ideas  or  information.  In  fact,  an  objec- 
tive, detailed  description  of  a  landscape,  however  accu- 
rate or  exhaustive,  will  leave  the  reader  almost  as  it  found 
him ;  whereas  a  single  word  which  enables  him  to  share 
the  emotion  inspired  by  the  scene  in  the  breast  of  the 
writer  will  transport  him  at  a  bound  to  the  spot  itself. 

The  charm  of  life  in  California  consisted  largely  in 
this,  that  it  was  lived  in  the  open  air.  It  was  almost  a 
perpetual  camping  out,  made  delightful  by  the  mildness 
of  the  climate  and  the  beauty  of  the  surroundings.  Even 
the  cheerful  fires  of  pine  or  of  scrub  oak  which  burn  so 
frequently  in  the  cabins  of  Bret  Harte's  miners,  are  kin- 
dled mainly  to  offset  the  dampness  of  the  rainy  season ; 
and  though  the  fire  blazes  merrily  on  the  hearth  the  door 
of  the  hut  is  usually  open.  The  Reader  knows  how  "  Union 
Mills  "  indolently  left  one  leg  exposed  to  the  rain  on  the 
outside  of  the  threshold,  the  rest  of  his  body  being  under 
cover  inside. 

Bret  Harte  in  his  poems  and  stories  availed  himself 
of  this  out-door  life  to  the  fullest  extent.  When  the  Rose 
of  Tuolumne  was  summoned  from  her  bedroom,  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  to  entertain  her  father's  guest, 
the  youthful  poet,  she  met  him,  not  in  the  stuffy  sitting- 
room  of  the  house,  but  in  the  moonlight  outside,  with 
the  snow-crowned  Sierras  dimly  visible  in  the  distance, 
and  "  quaint  odors  from  the  woods  near  by  perfuming 
the  warm,  still  air." 

The  young  Englishman,  Mainwaring,  and  Louise 
Macy,  the  Phyllis  of  the  Sierras,  could  not  help  being 
confidential  sitting  in  the  moonlight  on  that  unique 
veranda  which  overhung  the  Great  Canon,  two  thousand 
feet  deep,  as  many  wide,  and  lined  with  tall  trees,  dark 
and  motionless  in  the  distance.  If  the  Outcasts  of  Poker 
Flat  had  met  their  fate  in  ordinary  surroundings,  victims 
either  of  the  machinery  of  the  law  or  of  man's  violence, 
we  should  think  of  them  only  as  criminals;  but  with 


3i8  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

nature  herself  as  their  executioner,  and  the  scene  of  their 
death  that  remote,  wooded  amphitheatre  in  the  moun- 
tains, they  regain  their  lost  dignity  as  human  beings. 
How  vast  is  the  difference  between  John  Oakhurst 
shooting  himself  in  a  bedroom  at  some  second-class  hotel, 
and  performing  the  same  act  at  the  head  of  a  snow- 
covered  ravine  and  beneath  the  lofty  pine  tree  to  which 
he  affixed  the  playing  card  that  contained  his  epitaph  ! 

In  Tennessee  s  Partner,  the  whole  tragedy  is  trans- 
acted in  the  open  air,  excepting  the  trial  scene ;  and  even 
the  little  upper  room  which  serves  as  a  court  house  for 
the  lynching  party  is  hardly  a  screen  from  the  landscape. 
"Against  the  blackness  of  the  pines  the  windows  of  the 
old  loft  above  the  express  office  stood  out  staringly  bright ; 
and  through  their  curtainless  panes  the  loungers  below 
could  see  the  forms  of  those  who  were  even  then  deciding 
the  fate  of  Tennessee.  And  above  all  this,  etched  on  the 
dark  firmament,  rose  the  Sierra,  remote  and  passionless, 
crowned  with  remoter  passionless  stars." 

Nature,  thank  God,  does  not  share  our  emotions,  and, 
so  far  as  we  know,  is  swayed  by  no  emotions  of  her  own. 
But  she  inspires  certain  emotions  in  us,  and  is  a  visible, 
tangible  representation  of  strength  and  serenity.  Those 
who  delight  in  nature  are  a  long  way  from  regarding  her 
as  they  would  a  brick  or  a  stone.  A  certain  pantheism, 
such  as  Wordsworth  was  accused  of,  can  be  attributed 
to  everybody  who  loves  the  landscape.  There  is  a  mys- 
tery in  the  beautiful  inanimate  world,  as  there  is  in  every 
other  phase  of  the  universe.  "A  forest,"  said  Thoreau, 
"is  in  all  mythologies  a  sacred  place" ;  and  it  must  ever 
remain  such.  Let  anybody  wander  alone  upon  some 
mountain-side  or  hilltop,  and  watch  the  wind  blowing 
through  the  scanty,  unmown  grass,  and  it  will  be  strange 
if  the  vague  consciousness  of  some  presence  other  than 
his  own  does  not  insinuate  itself  into  his  mind.  He  will 
begin  to  understand  how  it  was  that  the  Ancients  peopled 


BRET  HARTE  AS  A  POET  319 

every  bush  and  stream  with  nymphs  or  deities.  Richard 
Jeffries  went  even  further  than  Wordsworth.  "  Though 
I  cannot  name  the  ideal  good,"  he  wrote,  "it  seems  to 
me  that  it  will  be  in  some  way  closely  associated  with  the 
ideal  beauty  of  nature." 

Bret  Harte  did  not  trouble  himself  much  about  the 
ideal  good ;  but  he  had  in  full  degree  the  modern  feeling 
for  nature,  and  found  in  her  a  mysterious  charm  and 
solace,  —  "that  profound  peace,"  to  use  his  own  language, 
"which  the  mountains  alone  can  give  their  lonely  or 
perturbed  children." 

In  one  of  the  stories.  Uncle  yim  and  Uncle  Billy ^  he 
describes  the  unlucky  and  unhappy  miner  going  to  the 
door  of  his  cabin  at  midnight. 

"In  the  feverish  state  into  which  he  had  gradually 
worked  himself  it  seemed  to  him  impossible  to  await  the 
coming  of  the  dawn.  But  he  was  mistaken.  For  even  as 
he  stood  there  all  nature  seemed  to  invade  his  humble 
cabin  with  its  free  and  fragrant  breath,  and  invest  him 
with  its  great  companionship.  He  felt  again,  in  that 
breath,  that  strange  sense  of  freedom,  that  mystic  touch 
of  partnership  with  the  birds  and  beasts,  the  shrubs  and 
trees,  in  this  greater  home  before  him.  It  was  this  vague 
communion  that  had  kept  him  there,  that  still  held  these 
world-sick,  weary  workers  in  their  rude  cabins  on  the 
slopes  around  him ;  and  he  felt  upon  his  brow  that  balm 
that  had  nightly  lulled  him  and  them  to  sleep  and  forget- 
fulness.  He  closed  the  door,  crept  into  his  bunk,  and 
presently  fell  into  a  profound  slumber." 

This  kind  of  communion  with  nature  depends  upon  a 
certain  degree  of  solitude,  and  the  mere  suggestion  of  a 
crowd  puts  it  to  flight  at  once.  Even  the  magnificence 
of  the  Swiss  mountains  is  almost  spoiled  for  the  real 
lover  of  nature  by  those  surroundings  from  which  only 
the  skilled  mountain-climber  is  able  to  escape.  Mere  sol- 
itude, on  the  other  hand,  provided  that  it  be  out  of  doors, 


320  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

is  almost  always  beautiful  and  certainly  beneficent  in 
itself. 

He  who  lives  in  a  desert  or  in  a  wood,  on  a  mountain 
top,  like  the  Twins  of  Table  Mountain,  or  in  an  unpeo- 
pled prairie,  may  have  many  faults  and  vices,  but  there 
are  some  from  which  he  will  certainly  be  free.  He  will 
be  serene  and  simple,  if  nothing  more.  "It  is  impossible," 
as  Thomas  Hardy  remarks,  "  for  any  one  living  upon  a 
heath  to  be  vulgar  "  ;  and  the  reason  is  obvious.  Vulgar- 
ity, as  we  all  know,  is  merely  a  form  of  insincerity.  To 
be  vulgar  is  to  say  and  do  things  not  naturally  and  out 
of  one's  own  head,  but  in  the  attempt  to  be  or  to  appear 
something  different  from  the  reality.  There  can  be  no 
vulgarity  on  the  heath,  on  the  farm,  or  in  the  mining 
camp,  for  there  everybody's  character  and  circumstances 
are  known ;  there  is  no  opportunity  for  deceit,  and  there 
is  no  motive  for  pretence. 

Moreover,  the  primitive  simplicity  of  the  mining  and 
the  logging  camp,  or  even  that  of  an  isolated  farming 
community,  is  not  essentially  different  from  the  culti- 
vated simplicity  of  the  aristocrat.  The  laboring  man  and 
the  aristocrat  have  very  much  the  same  sense  of  honor 
and  the  same  ideals ;  and  those  writers  who  are  at  home 
with  one  are  almost  always  at  home  with  the  other.  Sir 
Walter  Scott  and  Tolstoi  are  examples.  But  between 
these  two  extremes,  which  meet  at  many  points,  comes 
the  citified,  trading,  clerking  class,  which  has  lost  its 
primitive,  manly  instincts,  and  has  not  yet  regained  them 
in  the  chastened  form  of  convictions. 

It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  society  which 
Bret  Harte  enjoyed  in  London  was  more  akin  to  that  of 
the  mining  camp  than  to  that  of  San  Francisco.  In  both 
cases  the  charm  which  attracted  him  was  the  charm  of 
simplicity;  in  the  mining  camp,  the  simplicity  of  nature, 
in  London  the  simplicity  of  cultivation  and  finish. 


CHAPTER  XX 

BRET  HARTE's  PIONEER  DIALECT 

Occasionally  Bret  Harte  uses  an  archaic  word,  not 
because  it  is  archaic,  but  because  it  expresses  his  mean- 
ing better  than  any  other,  or  gives  the  needed  stimulus 
to  the  imagination  of  the  reader.  Thus,  in  A  First  Fam- 
ily of  Tasajara  we  read  that  "  the  former  daughters  of 
Sion  were  there,  burgeoning  and  expanding  in  the  glare 
of  their  new  prosperity  with  silver  and  gold." 

Often,  of  course,  the  employment  of  an  archaic  ex- 
pression confers  upon  the  speaker  that  air  of  quaintness 
which  the  author  wishes  to  convey.  Johnson's  Old  Wo- 
man, for  example,  "  'Lowed  she  'd  use  a  doctor,  ef  I  'd 
fetch  him."  The  verb  to  use^  in  this  sense,  may  still  be 
heard  in  some  parts  of  New  England  as  well  as  in  the 
West.  "I  never  use  sugar  in  my  tea"  is  a  familiar  example. 

Many  other  words  which  Bret  Harte's  Pioneer  people 
employ  are  still  in  service  among  old-fashioned  country 
folk,  although  they  have  long  since  passed  out  of  litera- 
ture, and  are  never  heard  in  cities.  Thus  Salomy  Jane 
was  accused  by  her  father  of  "  honeyf oglin'  with  a  hoss- 
thief  ";  and  the  blacksmith's  small  boy  spoke  of  Louise 
Macy  as  "  philanderin' "  with  Captain  Greyson.  These 
good  old  English  words  are  still  used  in  the  West  and 
South.  In  the  same  category  is  "  'twixt "  for  between. 
Dick  Spindler  spoke  of  "  this  yer  peace  and  good-will 
'twixt  man  and  man."  "  Far"  in  the  sense  of  distant  is 
another  example:  "The  far  barn  near  the  boundary." 
**  Mannerly  "  in  the  sense  of  well-mannered  has  the  au- 
thority of  Shakspere  and  of  Abner  Nott  in  A  Ship  of  '^p. 

One  of  Bret  Harte's  Western  girls  speaks  of  hunting 


322  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

for  the  plant  known  as  "Old  Man"  (southernwood),  be- 
cause she  wanted  it  for  "  smellidge."  **  Smellidge  "  has 
the  appearance  of  being  a  good  word,  and  it  was  for- 
merly used  in  New  England  and  the  West,  but  it  is 
excluded  from  modern  dictionaries. 

Some  expressions  which  might  be  regarded  as  original 
with  Bret  Harte  were  really  Pioneer  terms  of  Western 
or  Southern  use.  "  Johnson's  Old  Woman,"  for  "  John- 
son's wife"  was  the  ordinary  phrase  in  Missouri,  In- 
diana, Alabama,  and  doubtless  all  over  the  West  and 
South.  Thus  a  Missouri  farmer  is  quoted  as  saying  : 
"  My  old  woman  is  nineteen  years  old  to-day."  "  You 
know  fust-rate  she  's  dead  "  is  another  quaint  expres- 
sion used  by  Bret  Harte,  but  not  invented  by  him,  for 
this  use  of  "fust-rate"  in  the  sense  of  very  well  was 
not  uncommon  in  the  West.  In  the  poem  called  yim^ 
there  are  two  or  three  words  which  the  casual  reader 
might  suppose  to  be  inventions  of  the  poet. 

What  makes  you  star', 
You  over  thar  ? 
Can't  a  man  drop 
'S  glass  in  yer  shop 
But  you  must  r'ar  ? 

This  use  of  r'ar  or  rear,  meaning  to  become  angry,  to 
rave,  was  frequent  in  Arkansas  and  Indiana,  if  not  else- 
where. 

The  next  stanza  runs  :  — 

Dead ! 
Poor  —  little  —  Jim ! 
Why,  thar  was  me, 
Jones,  and  Bob  Lee, 
Harry  and  Ben,  — 
No-account  men : 
Then  to  take  him  I 

"No-account"  in  this  sense  was  a  common  Western 
term ;  and  so  was  "  ornery,"  from  ordinary,  meaning 
inferior,  which  occurs  in  the  next  and  final  stanza. 


BRET  HARTE'S   PIONEER   DIALECT       323 

When  Richelieu  Sharpe  excused  himself  for  wearing 
his  best  "  pants  "  on  the  ground  that  his  old  ones  had 
"  fetched  away  in  the  laig,"  he  was  amply  justified  by 
the  dialect  of  his  place  and  time.  So  when  little  Johnny 
Medliker  complained  of  the  parson  that  **  he  hez  been 
nigh  onter  pullin'  off  my  arm,"  he  used  the  current  Illi- 
nois equivalent  for  "nearly."  Mr.  Hays*  direction  to 
his  daughter,  "  Ye  kin  put  some  things  in  my  carpet- 
bag agin  the  time  when  the  sled  comes  round,"  was  also 
strictly  in  the  vernacular. 

No  verbal  error  is  more  common  than  that  of  using 
superfluous  prepositions.  "  To  feed  up  the  horses,"  for 
instance,  may  still  be  heard  almost  anywhere  in  rural 
New  England.  On  the  same  principle,  Mr.  Saunders,  in 
The  Transformation  of  Buckeye  Camp^  ruefully  admits 
that  he  and  his  companion  were  thrown  out  of  the  sa- 
loon, "  with  two  shots  into  us,  like  hounds  ez  we  were.'* 
This  substitution  of  into  for  in,  though  common  in  the 
West,  is  probably  now  extinct  in  the  Eastern  States ; 
but  a  purist,  writing  in  the  year  18 14,  quoted  the  follow- 
ing use  as  current  at  that  time  in  New  York  :  "  I  have 
the  rheumatism  into  my  knees." 

A  few  words  were  taken  by  the  Pioneers  from  the 
Spanish.  "  Savey,'*  a  corruption  of  sabe,  was  one  of  these, 
and  Bret  Harte  employed  it.  "  Hed  n't  no  savey,  hed 
Briggs." 

The  wealth  of  dialect  in  Bret  Harte's  stories  is  not 
strange,  considering  tlat  it  was  culled  from  Pioneers 
who  represented  every  part  of  the  country.  But,  it  may 
be  asked,  how  could  there  be  such  a  thing  as  a  Califor- 
nia dialect :  —  all  the  Pioneers  could  not  have  learned 
to  talk  alike,  coming  as  they  did  from  every  State  in  the 
Union !  The  answer  is,  first,  that,  in  the  main,  the  dia- 
lect of  the  different  States  was  the  same,  being  derived 
chiefly  from  the  same  source,  that  is,  from  England, 
directly  or  indirectly ;  and,  secondly,  the  dialect  of  what 


324  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

we  now  call  the  Middle  West  —  of  Missouri,  Indiana, 
Ohio,  and  Illinois — tended  to  predominate  on  the  Pacific 
Slope,  because  the  Pioneers  from  that  part  of  the  coun- 
try were  in  the  majority.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  find 
a  dialect  word  used  in  one  Western  State,  and  not  in 
another. 

There  are,  however,  some  Western,  and  more  espe- 
cially some  Southern  words  which  never  became  domi- 
ciled in  New  England.  The  word  allow  or  'low,  in  the 
sense  of  declare  or  state,  is  one  of  these,  and  Bret  Harte 
often  used  it.  "Then  she 'lowed  I'd  better  git  up  and 
git,  and  shet  the  door  to.  Then  I  'lowed  she  might  tell 
me  what  was  up  —  through  the  door." 

And  here  is  another  example  :  — 

"Rowley  Meade  —  him  ez  hed  his  skelp  pulled  over 
his  eyes  at  one  stroke,  foolin'  with  a  she-bear  over  on 
Black  Mountain  —  allows  it  would  be  rather  monoto- 
nous in  him  attemptin'  any  familiarities  with  her." 

("  Rowley  Meade,"  by  the  way,  is  an  example  of  Bret 
Harte's  felicity  in  the  choice  of  names.  No  common  fate 
could  be  reserved  for  one  bearing  a  name  like  that.) 

Lowell  employs  the  word  allow  in  its  corrupted  sense 
in  the  "  Biglow  Papers  " ;  but  he  adds  in  a  footnote  that 
it  was  a  use  not  of  New  England,  but  of  the  Southern 
and  Middle  States  ;  and  to  prove  the  antiquity  of  the 
corruption  he  cites  an  instance  of  it  in  Hakluyt  under 
the  date  of  1558. 

"Cahoots"  is  another  example.  When  the  warlike 
Jim  Hooker  said  to  Clarence,  "  Young  fel,  you  and  me 
are  cahoots  in  this  thing,"  he  was  using  a  common 
Western  expression  derived  remotely  from  the  old  Eng- 
lish word  cahoot,  signifying  a  company  or  partnership, 
but  not  known,  it  is  believed,  in  New  England. 

"When  we  rose  the  hill,"  "put  to"  {i.  e.  harness)  the 
horse,  "  cavortin'  round  here  in  the  dew,"  and  "  What 
yer  yawpin'  at  ther* }  *'  are  found  in  almost  every  State, 


BRET   HARTE'S   PIONEER  DIALECT       325 

East  or  West.  But  **  I  ain't  kicked  a  f ut  sens  I  left 
Mizzouri"  is  a  Southern  expression.  "Blue  mange" 
for  dlanc  mange  is  probably  original  with  Bret  Harte. 

One  of  Bret  Harte's  most  efTective  dialect  words  is 
"gait "  in  the  sense  of  habit,  or  manner.  "  He  never  sat 
down  to  a  square  meal  but  what  he  said,  *  If  old  Uncle 
Quince  was  only  here  now,  boys,  I  'd  die  happy.'  I  leave 
it  to  you,  gentlemen,  if  that  was  n't  Jackson  Wells's  gait 
all  the  time."  And  Rupert  Filgee,  impatient  at  Uncle 
Ben  Dabney's  destructive  use  of  pens,  exclaimed,  "  Look 
here,  what  you  want  ain't  a  pen,  but  a  clothes-pin  and 
split  nail!  That  '11  about  jibe  with  your  dilikit  gait." 

"  Gait "  is  a  very  old  term  in  thieves'  lingo,  meaning 
occupation  or  calling,  from  which  the  transition  to 
"habit"  is  easy ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  observe  that  in 
one  place  Bret  Harte  uses  the  word  in  a  sense  which  is 
about  half-way  between  the  two  meanings.  Thus,  when 
Mr.  McKinstry  was  severely  wounded  in  the  duel,  he 
apologized  for  requesting  the  attendance  of  a  physician 
by  saying,  "  I  don't  gin'rally  use  a  doctor,  but  this  yer 
is  suthin'  outside  the  old  woman's  regular  gait."  Bret 
Harte's  adoption  of  the  word  as  a  Pioneer  expression  is 
confirmed  by  Richard  Malcolm  Johnston,  the  recognized 
authority  on  Georgia  dialect,  for  he  makes  one  of  his 
characters  say :  — 

"  After  she  got  married,  seem  like  he  got  more  and 
more  restless  and  fidgety  in  his  mind,  and  in  his  gaits  in 
general." 

The  ridiculous  charge  has  been  made  that  Bret 
Harte's  dialect  is  not  Californian  or  even  American,  but 
is  simply  cockney  English.  The  only  reason  ever  given 
for  this  statement  is  that  Bret  Harte  uses  the  word 
"which"  in  its  cockney  sense,  and  that  this  use  was 
never  known  in  America. 

Which  I  wish  to  remark, 
And  my  language  is  plain, 


326  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

is  the  most  familiar  instance,  and  others  might  be  cited. 
Thus,  in  Mr.  Thompson  s  Prodigal  we  have  this  dia- 
logue between  the  father  of  the  prodigal  and  a  grave- 
digger  :  — 

***Did  you  ever  in  your  profession  come  across 
Char-les  Thompson  ? ' 

"  *  Thompson  be  damned,'  said  the  grave-digger,  with 
great  directness. 

"  *  Which,  if  he  had  n't  religion,  I  think  he  is,'  re- 
sponded the  old  man." 

This  use  of  "which"  is  indeed  now  identified  with  the 
London  cockney,  but  it  may  still  be  heard  in  the  eastern 
counties  of  England,  whence,  no  doubt,  it  was  imported 
to  this  country.  Though  far  from  common  in  the  United 
States,  it  is  used,  according  to  the  authorities  cited  be- 
low, in  the  mountainous  parts  of  Virginia,^  in  West 
Virginia,^  in  the  mountain  regions  of  Kentucky,^  espe- 
cially in  Eastern  Kentucky,*  and  in  the  western  part  of 
Arkansas.^ 

Professor  Edward  A.  Allen  of  the  University  of  Mis- 
souri says  that  this  use  of  "  which  "  is  "  not  Southern, 
but  Western." 

Moreover,  upon  this  point  also  we  can  cite  the  author- 
ity of  Richard  Malcolm  Johnston,  for  the  cockney  use 
of  "which"  frequently  occurs  in  his  tales  of  Middle 
Georgia ;  as,  for  instance,  in  these  sentences  :  — 

"  And  which  I  would  n't  have  done  that  nohow  in 
the  world  ef  it  could  be  hendered." 

"Which  a  man  like  you  that 's  got  no  wife." 

"  Howbeever,  as  your  wife  is  Nancy  Lary,  which  that 
she 's  the  own  dear  sister  o'  my  wife." 

"And  which  I  haven't  a  single  jubous  doubt  that, 

1  G.  H.  Denny,  President  of  Washington  and  Lee  University. 

2  Thomas  E.  Cramblet,  President  of  Bethany  College. 

8  Gerard  Fowke,  author  of  the  "  Archaeological  History  of  Ohio." 
*  R.  H.  Crossfield,  President  of  Transylvania  University. 
6  J.  I.  D.  Hinds,  Dean  of  the  University  of  Nashville. 


BRET   HARTE'S   PIONEER   DIALECT       327 

soon  as  the  breath  got  out  o'  her  body,  she  went  to  man- 
sion in  the  sky  same  as  a  bow-'n'-arrer,  or  even  a  rifle- 
bullet." 

Another  authority  on  this  point  is  the  well-known 
writer  of  stories,  Alfred  Henry  Lewis,  a  native  of  Arkan- 
sas. In  his  tales  we  find  these  expressions  :  — 

"Which  his  baptismal  name  is  Lafe." 

"  Which  if  these  is  your  manners." 

"Which,  undoubted,  the  barkeeps  is  the  hardest- 
worked  folks  in  camp." 

"  Which  it  is  some  late  for  night  before  last,  but  it 's 
jest  the  shank  of  the  evening  for  to-night," 

No  writer  ever  knew  Virginia  better  than  did  the  late 
George  W.  Bagby,  and  he  attributes  the  cockney  "which  " 
to  a  backwoodsman  from  Charlotte  County  in  that  State. 
"  And  what  is  this  part  of  the  country  called }  Has  it 
any  particular  name  "i " 

"  To  be  sho.  Right  here  is  Brilses,  which  it  is  a  pre- 
sink  ;  but  this  here  ridge  ar'  called  *  Verjunce   Ridge.'  " 

Mark  Twain's  authority  on  a  matter  of  Western  dia- 
lect will  hardly  be  questioned,  and  this  same  use  of 
"  which  "  is  not  infrequent  in  his  stories.  Here,  for  in- 
stance, is  an  example  from  "  Tom  Sawyer  "  :  "  We  said 
it  was  Parson  Silas,  and  we  judged  he  had  found  Sam 
Cooper  drunk  in  the  road,  which  he  was  always  trying 
to  reform  him."  Finally,  that  well-known  Pioneer,  Mr. 
Warren  Cheney,  an  early  contributor  to  the  "  Overland," 
testifies  that  "which"  as  thus  used  "is  perfectly  good 
Pike."i 

The  rather  astonishing  fact  is  that  Bret  Harte  uses 
dialect  words  and  phrases  to  the  number,  roughly  esti- 
mated, of  three  hundred,  and  a  hasty  investigation  has 
served  to  identify  all  but  a  few  of  these  as  legitimate 
Pioneer  expressions.  A  more  thorough  search  would  no 
doubt  account  satisfactorily  for  every  one  of  them. 

1  For  the  meaning  of  "  Pike,"  see  supra^  page  59. 


328  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

However,  that  dialect  should  be  authentic  is  not  so 
important  as  that  it  should  be  interesting.  Many  story- 
writers  report  dialect  in  a  correct  and  conscientious 
form,  but  it  wearies  the  reader.  Dialect  to  be  interest- 
ing must  be  the  vehicle  of  humor,  and  the  great  masters 
of  dialect,  such  as  Thackeray  and  Sir  Walter  Scott,  are 
also  masters  of  humor.  Bret  Harte  had  the  same  gift, 
and  he  showed  it,  as  we  have  seen,  not  only  in  Pioneer 
speech,  but  also  in  the  Spanish-American  dialect  of  En- 
riquez  Saltello  and  his  charming  sister,  in  the  Scotch  dia- 
lect of  Mr.  Callender,  in  the  French  dialect  of  the  inn- 
keeper who  entertained  Alkali  Dick,  and  in  the  German 
dialect  of  Peter  Schroeder.  For  one  thing,  a  too  exact 
reproduction  of  dialect  almost  always  has  a  misleading 
and  awkward  effect.  The  written  word  is  not  the  same 
as  the  spoken  word,  and  the  constant  repetition  of  a 
sound  which  would  hardly  be  noticed  in  speech  becomes 
unduly  prominent  and  wearisome  if  put  before  our  eyes 
in  print.  In  the  following  passage  it  will  be  seen  how 
Bret  Harte  avoids  the  too  frequent  occurrence  of  "  ye  " 
(which  Tinka  Gallinger  probably  used)  by  alternating  it 
with  "  you  "  :  — 

"'No!  no!  ye  shan't  go  —  ye  mustn't  go,'  she  said, 
with  hysterical  intensity.  '  I  want  to  tell  ye  something ! 
Listen !  —  you  —  you  —  Mr.  Fleming  !  I  've  been  a 
wicked,  wicked  girl!  I've  told  lies  to  dad  —  to  mammy 
—  to  you!  I've  borne  false  witness — I 'm  worse  than 
Sapphira — I  've  acted  a  big  lie.  Oh,  Mr.  Fleming,  I  've 
made  you  come  back  here  for  nothing!  Ye  didn't  find 
no  gold  the  other  day.  There  was  n't  any.  It  was  all  me ! 
I — I  —  salted  that  pan  / '  " 

Bret  Harte's  writings  offer  a  wide  field  for  the  study 
of  what  might  be  called  the  psychological  aspect  of 
dialect,  especially  so  far  as  it  relates  to  pronunciation. 
What  governs  the  dialect  of  any  time  and  place .''  Is  it 
purely  accidental  that  the  London  cockney  says  "piper" 


BRET   HARTE'S   PIONEER   DIALECT       329 

instead  of  paper,  and  that  the  Western  Pioneer  says 
"  b'ar  "  for  bear,  —  or  does  some  inner  necessity  deter- 
mine, or  partly  determine,  these  departures  from  the 
standard  pronunciation?  This,  however,  is  a  subject 
which  lies  far  beyond  our  present  scope.  Suffice  it  to 
say  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  convince  the  reader  of 
Bret  Harte  that  there  is  not  some  inevitable  harmony 
between  his  characters  and  the  dialect  or  other  language 
which  they  employ.  Who,  for  example,  would  hesitate 
to  assign  to  Yuba  Bill,  and  to  none  other,  this  remark : 
"  I  knew  the  partikler  style  of  damn  fool  that  you  was, 
and  expected  no  better." 


} 


CHAPTER   XXI 

BRET   HARTE's   STYLE 

In  discussing  Bret  Harte,  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
separate  substance  from  style.  The  style  is  so  good,  so 
exactly  adapted  to  the  ideas  which  he  wishes  to  convey, 
that  one  can  hardly  imagine  it  as  different.  Some  thou- 
sands of  years  ago  an  Eastern  sage  remarked  that  he 
would  like  to  write  a  book  such  as  everybody  would  con- 
ceive that  he  might  have  written  himself,  and  yet  so  good 
that  nobody  else  could  have  written  the  like.  This  is 
the  ideal  which  Bret  Harte  fulfilled.  Almost  everything 
said  by  any  one  of  his  characters  is  so  accurate  an  ex- 
pression of  that  character  as  to  seem  inevitable.  It  is 
felt  at  once  to  be  just  what  such  a  character  must  have 
said.  Given  the  character,  the  words  follow ;  and  anybody 
could  set  them  down  !  This  is  the  fallacy  underlying  that 
strange  feeling,  which  every  reader  must  have  experi- 
enced, of  the  apparent  easiness  of  writing  an  especially 
good  conversation  or  soliloquy. 

The  real  difficulty  of  writing  like  Bret  Harte  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that  as  a  story-teller  he  has  no  imitators.  His 
style  is  so  individual  as  to  make  imitation  impossible.  And 
yet  occasionally  the  inspiration  failed.  It  is  a  peculiarity 
of  Bret  Harte,  shown  especially  in  the  longer  stories,  and 
most  of  all  perhaps  in  Gabriel  Convoy,  that  there  are 
times  when  the  reader  almost  believes  that  Bret  Harte 
has  dropped  the  pen,  and  some  inferior  person  has  taken 
it  up.  Author  and  reader  come  to  the  ground  with  a  thud. 

Mr.  Warren  Cheney  has  remarked  upon  this  defect  as 
follows :  — 

*'  With  most  authors  there  is  a  level  of  general  excel- 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  331 

lence  along  which  they  can  plod  if  the  wings  of  genius 
chance  to  tire  for  a  time ;  but  with  Mr.  Harte  the  case  is 
a  different  one.  His  powers  are  impulsive  rather  than 
enduring.  Ideas  strike  him  with  extraordinary  force,  but 
the  inspiration  is  of  equally  short  duration.  So  long  as 
the  flush  of  excitement  lasts,  his  work  will  be  up  to  stand- 
ard ;  but  when  the  genius  flags,  he  has  no  individual  fund 
of  dramatic  or  narrative  properties  to  sustain  him." 

But  of  these  lapses  there  are  few  in  the  short  stories, 
and  none  at  all  in  the  best  stories.  In  them  the  style 
is  almost  flawless.  There  are  no  mannerisms  in  it ;  no 
affectations ;  no  egotism ;  no  slang  (except,  of  course,  in 
the  mouths  of  the  various  characters) ;  nothing  local  or 
provincial,  nothing  which  stamps  it  as  of  a  particular 
age,  country  or  school,  —  nothing,  in  short,  which  could 
operate  as  a  barrier  between  author  and  reader. 

But  these  are  only  negative  virtues.  What  are  the 
positive  virtues  of  Bret  Harte's  style  ?  Perhaps  the  most 
obvious  quality  is  the  deep  feeling  which  pervades  it.  It  is 
possible,  indeed,  to  have  good  style  without  depth  of  feel- 
ing. John  Stuart  Mill  is  an  example  ;  Lord  Chesterfield 
is  another ;  Benjamin  Franklin  another.  In  general,  how- 
ever, want  of  feeling  in  the  author  produces  a  coldness 
in  the  style  that  chills  the  reader.  Herbert  Spencer's 
autobiography  discloses  an  almost  inhuman  want  of  feel- 
ing, and  the  same  effect  is  apparent  in  his  dreary,  frigid 
style. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  a  truism  that  the  language  of 
passion  is  invariably  effective,  and  never  vulgar.  Grief 
and  anger  are  always  eloquent.  There  are  men,  even 
practised  authors,  who  never  write  really  well  unless 
something  has  occurred  to  put  them  out  of  temper. 
Good  style  may  perhaps  be  said  to  result  from  the  union 
of  deep  feeling  with  an  artistic  sense  of  form.  This  pro- 
duces that  conciseness  for  which  Bret  Harte's  style  is 
remarkable.  What  author  has  used  shorter  words,  has 


332  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

expressed  more  with  a  few  words,  or  has  elaborated  so 
little  !  His  points  are  made  with  the  precision  of  a  bul- 
let going  straight  to  the  mark,  and  nothing  is  added. 

How  effective,  for  example,  is  this  dialogue  between 
Helen  Maynard,  who  has  just  met  the  one-armed  painter 
for  the  first  time,  and  the  French  girl  who  accompanies 
her :  "  *  So  you  have  made  a  conquest  of  the  recently  ac- 
quired but  unknown  Greek  statue  ? '  said  Mademoiselle 
Ren6e  lightly. 

"  *  It  is  a  countryman  of  mine,'  said  Helen  simply. 

" '  He  certainly  does  not  speak  French,'  said  Made- 
moiselle mischievously. 

"  *  Nor  think  it,'  responded  Helen,  with  equal  vivac- 
ity." 

Possibly  Bret  Harte  sometimes  carries  this  dramatic 
conciseness  a  little  too  far,  —  so  far  that  the  reader's  at- 
tention is  drawn  from  the  matter  in  hand  to  the  manner 
in  which  it  is  expressed.  To  take  an  example,  y<?//«j^«'j 
Old  Woman  ends  as  follows  :  — 

"  *  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Miss  Johnson,'  I  said 
eagerly. 

"  *  I  reckon  so,'  he  said  with  an  exasperating  smile. 
*  Most  fellers  do.  But  she  ain't  Miss  Johnson  no  more. 
She 's  married.' 

"  *Not  to  that  big  chap  over  from  Ten  Mile  Mills  > '  I 
said  breathlessly. 

"  *  What 's  the  matter  with  him^  said  Johnson.  *  Ye 
did  n't  expect  her  to  marry  a  nobleman,  did  ye  t ' 

"  I  said  I  did  n't  see  why  she  should  n't,  —  and  believed 
that  she  /lad." 

This  is  extremely  clever,  but  perhaps  its  very  clever- 
ness, and  its  abruptness,  divert  the  reader's  interest  for 
a  moment  from  the  story  to  the  person  who  tells  it. 

One  other  characteristic  of  Bret  Harte's  style,  and  in- 
deed of  any  style  which  ranks  with  the  best,  is  obvious, 
and  that  is  subtlety.  It  is  the  office  of  a  good  style  to 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  sss 

express  in  some  indefinable  manner  those  nuances  which 
mere  words,  taken  by  themselves,  are  not  fine  enough  to 
convey.  Thoughts  so  subtle  as  to  have  almost  the  charac- 
ter of  feehngs  ;  feelings  so  well  defined  as  just  to  escape 
being  thoughts  ;  attractions  and  repulsions  ;  those  ob- 
scure movements  of  the  intellect  of  which  the  ordinary 
man  is  only  half  conscious  until  they  are  revealed  to  him 
by  the  eye  of  genius ;  —  all  these  things  it  is  a  part  of 
style  to  express,  or  at  least  to  imply.  Subtlety  of  style  pre- 
supposes, of  course,  subtlety  of  thought,  and  possibly  also 
subtlety  of  perception.  Certainly  Bret  Harte  had  both  of 
these  capacities ;  and  many  examples  might  be  cited  of 
his  minute  and  sympathetic  observation.  For  instance, 
although  he  had  no  knowledge  of  horses,  and  occasion- 
ally betrays  his  ignorance  in  this  respect,  yet  he  has  de- 
scribed the  peculiar  gait  of  the  American  trotter  with  an 
accuracy  which  any  technical  person  might  envy.  **  The 
driver  leaned  forward  and  did  something  with  the  reins 
—  Rose  never  could  clearly  understand  what,  though  it 
seemed  to  her  that  he  simply  lifted  them  with  ostentatious 
lightness ;  but  the  mare  suddenly  seemed  to  lengthen  her- 
self 2xA  lose  her  height,  and  the  stalks  of  wheat  on  either 
side  of  the  dusty  track  began  to  melt  into  each  other, 
and  then  slipped  like  a  flash  into  one  long,  continuous, 
shimmering  green  hedge.  So  perfect  was  the  mare's  ac- 
tion that  the  girl  was  scarcely  conscious  of  any  increased 
effort.  ...  So  superb  was  the  xcach  of  her  long,  easy 
stride  that  Rose  could  scarcely  see  any  undulations  in 
the  brown,  shining  back  on  which  she  could  have  placed 
her  foot,  nor  felt  the  soft  beat  of  the  delicate  hoofs  that 
took  the  dust  so  firmly  and  yet  so  lightly."  ^ 

Equally  correct  is  the  description  of  the  "great,  yel- 
low mare "  Jovita,  that  carried  Dick  BuUen  on  his 
midnight  ride:^  *'From  her  Roman  nose  to  her  rising 

1  Through  the  Santa  Clara  Wheat. 

•  How  Santa  Claus  Came  to  Simpson's  Bar. 


334  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

haunches,  from  her  arched  spine  hidden  by  the  stiff  man- 
chillas  of  a  Mexican  saddle,  to  her  thick,  straight  bony 
legs,  there  was  not  a  line  of  equine  grace.  In  her  half- 
blind  but  wholly  vicious  white  eyes,  in  her  protruding  un- 
der lip,  in  her  monstrous  color,  there  was  nothing  but 
ugliness  and  vice." 

Jovita,  plainly,  was  drawn  from  life,  and  she  must  have 
been  of  thoroughbred  blood  on  one  side,  for  her  extraor- 
dinary energy  and  temper  could  have  been  derived 
from  no  other  source.  Such  a  mare  would  naturally  have 
an  unusually  straight  hind  leg ;  and  Bret  Harte  noticed 
it. 

As  to  his  heroines,  he  had  such  a  faculty  of  describ- 
ing them  that  they  stand  before  us  almost  as  clearly  as 
if  we  saw  them  in  the  flesh.  He  does  not  simply  tell  us 
that  they  are  beautiful,  — we  see  for  ourselves  that  they 
are  so  ;  and  one  reason  for  this  is  the  sympathetic  keen- 
ness with  which  he  observed  all  the  details  of  the  human 
face  and  figure.  Thus  Julia  Porter's  face  "appeared 
whiter  at  the  angles  of  the  mouth  and  nose  through  the 
relief  of  tiny  freckles  like  grains  of  pepper." 

There  are  subtleties  of  coloring  that  have  escaped  al- 
most everybody  else.  Who  but  Bret  Harte  has  really  de- 
scribed the  light  which  love  kindles  upon  the  face  of  a 
woman  ?  "  Yerba  Buena's  strangely  delicate  complexion 
had  taken  on  itself  that  faint  Alpine  glow  that  was  more 
of  an  illumination  than  a  color."  And  so  of  Cressy,  as 
the  Schoolmaster  saw  her  at  the  dance.  "She  was  pale, 
he  had  never  seen  her  so  beautiful.  .  .  .  The  absence 
of  color  in  her  usually  fresh  face  had  been  replaced  by  a 
faint  magnetic  aurora  that  seemed  to  him  half  spiritual. 
He  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  her ;  he  could  not  be- 
lieve what  he  saw." 

The  forehead,  the  temples,  and  more  especially  the 
eyebrows  of  his  heroines  —  these  and  the  part  which 
they  play  in  the  expression  of  emotion,  are  described 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  335 

by  Bret  Harte  with  a  particularity  which  cannot  be  found 
elsewhere.  Even  the  eyelashes  of  his  heroines  are  often 
carefully  painted  in  the  picture.  Flora  Dimwood  "  cast  a 
sidelong  glance"  at  the  hero,  "under  her  widely-spaced, 
heavy  lashes."  Of  Mrs.  Brimmer,  the  fastidious  Boston 
woman,  it  is  said  that  "  a  certain  nervous  intensity  occa- 
sionally lit  up  her  weary  eyes  with  a  dangerous  phospho- 
rescence, under  their  brown  fringes." 

The  eyes  and  eyelashes  of  that  irrepressible  child, 
Sarah  Walker,  are  thus  minutely  and  pathetically 
described :  "Her  eyes  were  of  a  dark  shade  of  bur- 
nished copper,  —  the  orbits  appearing  deeper  and  larger 
from  the  rubbing  in  of  habitual  tears  from  long  wet 
lashes." 

Bret  Harte  has  the  rare  faculty  of  making  even  a  tear- 
ful woman  attractive.  The  Ward  of  the  Golden  Gate 
"  drew  back  a  step,  lifted  her  head  with  a  quick  toss  that 
seemed  to  condense  the  moisture  in  her  shining  eyes, 
and  sent  what  might  have  been  a  glittering  dewdrop  fly- 
ing into  the  loosened  tendrils  of  her  hair."  The  quick- 
tempered heroine  is  seen  "  hurriedly  disentangling  two 
stinging  tears  from  her  long  lashes";  and  even  the  man- 
nish girl,  Julia  Porter,  becomes  femininely  deliquescent  as 
she  leans  back  in  the  dark  stage-coach,  with  the  roman- 
tic Cass  Beard  gazing  at  her  from  his  invisible  corner. 
"  How  much  softer  her  face  looked  'n  the  moonlight !  — 
How  moist  her  eyes  were  —  actually  shining  in  the  light ! 
How  that  light  seemed  to  concentrate  in  the  corner  of 
the  lashes,  and  then  slipped  —  flash  —  away!  Was  she.^ 
Yes,  she  was  crying." 

There  is  great  subtlety  not  only  of  perception  but  of 
thought  in  the  description  of  the  Two  Americans  at  the 
beginning  of  their  intimacy :  — 

"  Oddly  enough,  their  mere  presence  and  companion- 
ship seemed  to  excite  in  others  that  tenderness  they  had 
not  yet  felt  themselves.  Family  groups  watched  the  hand- 


336  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

some  pair  in  their  innocent  confidence  and,  with  French 
exuberant  recognition  of  sentiment,  thought  them  the 
incarnation  of  Love.  Something  in  their  manifest  equal- 
ity of  condition  kept  even  the  vainest  and  most  suscep- 
tible of  spectators  from  attempted  rivalry  or  cynical  in- 
terruption. And  when  at  last  they  dropped  side  by  side 
on  a  sun-warmed  stone  bench  on  the  terrace,  and  Helen, 
inclining  her  brown  head  toward  her  companion,  in- 
formed him  of  the  difficulty  she  had  experienced  in  get- 
ting gumbo  soup,  rice  and  chicken,  corn  cakes,  or  any  of 
her  favorite  home  dishes  in  Paris,  an  exhausted  but  gal- 
lant boulevardier  rose  from  a  contiguous  bench,  and, 
politely  lifting  his  hat  to  the  handsome  couple,  turned 
slowly  away  from  what  he  believed  were  tender  confi- 
dences he  would  not  permit  himself  to  hear." 

Without  this  subtlety,  a  writer  may  have  force,  even 
eloquence,  as  Johnson  and  Macaulay  had  those  qualities, 
but  he  is  not  likely  to  have  an  enduring  charm.  Sub- 
tlety seems  to  be  the  note  of  the  best  modern  writers, 
of  the  Oxford  school  in  particular,  a  subtlety  of  language 
which  extracts  from  every  word  its  utmost  nicety  of 
meaning,  and  a  subtlety  of  thought  in  which  every  fac- 
ulty is  on  the  alert  to  seize  any  qualification  or  limit- 
ation, any  hint  or  suggestion  that  might  be  hovering 
obscurely  about  the  subject. 

Yet  subtlety,  more  perhaps  than  any  other  quality  of 
a  good  style,  easily  becomes  a  defect.  If  it  is  the  forte 
of  some  writers,  it  is  the  foible,  not  to  say  the  vice,  of 
others.  The  later  works  of  Henry  James,  for  instance, 
will  at  once  occur  to  the  Reader  as  an  example.  Bret 
Harte  himself  is  sometimes,  but  rarely,  over-subtle,  re- 
presenting his  characters  as  going  through  processes  of 
thought  or  speech  much  too  elaborate  for  them,  or  for 
the  occasion. 

There  is  an  example  of  this  in  Susy^  where  Clarence 
says  :  "  *If  I  did  not  know  you  were  prejudiced  by  a  fool- 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  337 

ish  and  indiscreet  woman,  I  should  believe  you  were 
trying  to  insult  me  as  you  have  your  adopted  mother, 
and  would  save  you  the  pain  of  doing  both  in  her  house 
by  leaving  it  now  and  forever.'  " 

And  again,  in  A  Secret  of  Telegraph  Hilly  where  Her- 
bert Bly  says  to  the  gambler  whom  he  has  surprised  in 
his  room,  hiding  from  the  Vigilance  Committee  :  "  *  Who- 
ever you  may  be,  I  am  neither  the  police  nor  a  spy.  You 
have  no  right  to  insult  me  by  supposing  that  I  would 
profit  by  a  mistake  that  made  you  my  guest,  and  that  I 
would  refuse  you  the  sanctuary  of  the  roof  that  covers 
your  insult  as  well  as  your  blunder.' "  And  yet  the  speaker 
is  not  meant  to  be  a  prig. 

There  is  another  characteristic  of  Bret  Harte's  style 
which  should  perhaps  be  regarded  as  a  form  of  sub- 
tlety, and  that  is  the  surprising  resources  of  his  vocab- 
ulary. He  seems  to  have  gathered  all  the  words  and 
idioms  that  might  become  of  service  to  him,  and  to  have 
stored  them  in  his  memory  for  future  use.  If  a  peculiar 
or  technical  expression  was  needed,  he  always  had  it  at 
hand.  Thus  when  the  remorseful  Joe  Corbin  told  Colonel 
Starbottle  about  his  sending  money  to  the  widow  of  the 
man  whom  he  had  killed  in  self-defence,  the  Colonel's 
apt  comment  was,  "  A  kind  of  expiation  or  amercement 
of  fine,  known  to  the  Mosaic,  Roman  and  old  English 
law."  And  yet  his  reading  never  tojk  a  wide  range. 
His  large  vocabulary  was  due  partly,  no  doubt,  to  an  ex- 
cellent memory,  but  still  more  to  his  keen  appreciation 
of  delicate  shades  in  the  meaning  of  words.  He  had  a  re- 
markable gift  of  choosing  the  right  word.  In  the  follow- 
ing lines,  for  example,  the  whole  effect  depends  upon  the 
discriminating  selection  of  the  verbs  and  adjectives  :  — 

Bunny,  thrilled  by  unknown  fears, 
Raised  his  soft  and  pointed  ears, 
Mumbled  his  prehensile  lip, 
Quivered  his  pulsating  hip. 


338  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

Depth  of  feeling,  subtlety  of  perception  and  intellect, 
—  these  qualities,  supplemented  by  the  sense  of  form 
and  beauty,  go  far  to  account  for  the  charm  of  Bret 
Harte's  style.  He  had  an  ear  for  style,  just  as  some  per- 
sons have  an  ear  for  music ;  and  he  could  extract  beauty 
from  language  just  as  the  musician  can  extract  it  from 
the  strings  of  a  violin.  This  kind  of  beauty  is,  in  one 
sense,  a  matter  of  mere  sound  ;  and  yet  it  is  really  much 
more  than  that.  "  Words,  even  the  most  perfect,  owe 
very  much  to  the  spiritual  cadence  with  which  they  are 
imbued."! 

A  musical  sentence,  made  up  of  words  harmoniously 
chosen,  and  of  sub-sentences  nicely  balanced,  must  ne- 
cessarily deepen,  soften,  heighten,  or  otherwise  modify  the 
bare  meaning  of  the  words.  In  fact,  it  clothes  them  with 
that  kind  and  degree  of  feeling  which,  as  the  writer  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously  perceives,  will  best  further  his 
intention.  Style,  in  short,  is  a  substitute  for  speech,  the 
author  giving  through  the  medium  of  his  style  the  same 
emotional  and  personal  color  to  his  thoughts  which  the 
orator  conveys  by  the  tone  and  inflections  of  his  voice. 
Hence  the  saying  that  the  style  is  the  man. 

If  we  were  looking  for  an  example  of  mere  beauty  in 
style,  perhaps  we  could  find  nothing  better  than  this  de- 
scription of  Maruja,  after  parting  from  her  lover  :  "  Small 
wonder  that,  hidden  and  silent  in  her  en  wrappings,  as 
she  lay  back  in  the  carriage,  with  her  pale  face  against 
the  cold,  starry  sky,  two  other  stars  came  out  and  glis- 
tened and  trembled  on  her  passion-fringed  lashes." 

No  less  beautiful  in  style  are  these  lines  :  — 

Above  the  tumult  of  the  caflon  lifted, 
The  gray  hawk  breathless  hung, 
Or  on  the  hill  a  winged  shadow  drifted 
Where  furze  and  thorn-bush  clung.^ 
^  R.  L.  Stevenson. 

2  The  author  had  described  this  scene  before  in  prose,  though  he  may 
have  forgotten  it.    In  the  story  called  Who  Was  My  Quiet  Friend  ?  ht 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  339 

And  yet,  so  exact  is  the  correspondence  between 
thought  and  word  here,  that  we  find  ourselves  doubting 
whether  the  charm  of  the  passage  lies  in  its  form,  or  in 
the  mere  idea  conveyed  to  the  reader  with  the  least  pos- 
sible interposition  of  language ;  and  yet,  again,  to  raise 
that  very  doubt  may  be  the  supreme  effect  of  a  consum- 
mate style. 

Bret  Harte  was  sometimes  a  little  careless  in  his  style, 
careless,  that  is,  in  the  way  of  writing  obscurely  or  un- 
grammatically, but  very  seldom  so  careless  as  to  write 
in  a  dull  or  unmusical  fashion.  To  find  a  harsh  sentence 
anywhere  in  his  works  would  be  almost,  if  not  quite,  im- 
possible. A  leading  English  Review  once  remarked,  "  It 
was  never  among  Mr.  Bret  Harte's  accomplishments  to 
labor  cheerfully  with  the  file  " ;  and  again,  a  few  years 
later,  "  Mr.  Harte  can  never  be  accused  of  carelessness." 
Neither  statement  was  quite  correct,  but  the  second  one 
comes  very  much  nearer  the  truth  than  the  first. 

Beside  these  occasional  lapses  in  the  construction  of 
his  sentences,  Bret  Harte  had  some  peculiarities  in  the 
use  of  English  to  which  he  clung,  either  out  of  loyalty 
to  Dickens,  from  whom  he  seems  to  have  derived  them, 
or  from  a  certain  amiable  perversity  which  was  part  of 
his  character.  He  was  a  strong  partisan  of  the  "split 
infinitive."  A  Chinaman  "caused  the  gold  piece  and 
the  letter  to  instantly  vanish  up  his  sleeve."  "  To  coldly 
interest  Price  "  ;  "to  unpleasantly  discord  with  the  gen- 
eral social  harmony";  "to  quietly  reappear,"  are  other 
examples. 

The  wrong  use  of  "gratuitous"  is  a  thoroughly  Dick- 
ens error,  and  it  almost  seems  as  if  Bret  Harte  went 
out  of  his  way  to  copy  it.  In  the  story  of  Higgles,  for 
example,  it  is  only  a  few  paragraphs  after  Yuba  Bill  has 

wrote  :  "  The  pines  in  the  canon  below  were  olive  gulfs  of  heat,  over  which 
a  hawk  here  and  there  drifted  lazily,  or,  rising  to  our  level,  cast  a  weird 
and  gigantic  shadow  of  slowly  moving  wings  on  the  mountain-side." 


340  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

observed  the  paralytic  Jim's  "expression  of  perfectly 
gratuitous  solemnity,"  that  his  own  features  "relax  into 
an  expression  of  gratuitous  and  imbecile  cheerfulness." 

"Aggravation"  in  the  sense  of  irritation  is  another 
Dickens  solecism  which  also  appears  several  times  in 
Bret  Harte. 

Beside  these,  Bret  Harte  had  a  few  errors  all  his  own. 
In  The  Story  of  a  MinCy  there  is  a  strangely  repeated 
use  of  the  awkward  expression  "  near  facts,"  followed  by 
a  statement  that  the  new  private  secretary  was  a  little 
dashed  as  to  his  "  near  hopes."  Diligent  search  reveals 
also  "continued  on"  in  one  story,  "different  to"  in  an- 
other, "plead"  for  "pleaded,"  "who  would  likely  spy 
upon  you  "  in  an  unfortunate  place,  and  "  too  occupied 
with  his  subject"  somewhere  else. 

This  short  list  will  very  nearly  exhaust  Bret  Harte's 
errors  in  the  use  of  English ;  but  it  must  be  admitted, 
also,  that  he  occasionally  lapses  into  a  Dickens-like 
grandiloquence  and  cant  of  superior  virtue.  There  are 
several  examples  of  this  in  The  Story  of  a  Mine^  espe- 
cially in  that  part  which  relates  to  the  City  of  Wash- 
ington. The  following  paragraph  is  almost  a  burlesque 
of  Dickens :  "  The  actors,  the  legislators  themselves, 
knew  it  and  laughed  at  it ;  the  commentators,  the  Press, 
knew  it  and  laughed  at  it ;  the  audience,  the  great  Ameri- 
can people,  knew  it  and  laughed  at  it.  And  nobody  for  an 
instant  conceived  that  it  ever,  under  any  circumstances, 
might  be  different." 

Still  worse  is  this  description  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
which  might  serve  as  a  model  of  confused  ideas  and 
crude  reasoning,  only  half  believed  in  by  the  writer 
himself :  "  A  body  of  learned,  cultivated  men,  represent- 
ing the  highest  legal  tribunal  in  the  land,  still  lingered 
in  a  vague  idea  of  earning  the  scant  salary  bestowed 
upon  them  by  the  economical  founders  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  listened  patiently  to  the  arguments  of  coun- 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  341 

sel,  whose  fees  for  advocacy  of  the  claims  before  them 
would  have  paid  the  life  income  of  half  the  bench." 

That  exquisite  sketch,  Wan  LeCy  the  Pagan,  is  marred 
by  this  Dickens-like  apostrophe  to  the  clergy :  "  Dead, 
my  reverend  friends,  dead !  Stoned  to  death  in  the  streets 
of  San  Francisco,  in  the  year  of  grace,  eighteen  hundred 
and  sixty-nine,  by  a  mob  of  half-grown  boys  and  Chris- 
tian school-children ! " 

In  the  description  of  an  English  country  church,  which 
occurs  in  A  Phyllis  of  the  Sierras,  we  find  another  pas- 
sage almost  worthy  of  a  "  condensed  novel "  in  which 
some  innocent  crusaders,  lying  cross-legged  in  marble, 
are  rebuked  for  tripping  up  the  unwary  "  until  in  death? 
as  in  life,  they  got  between  the  congregation  and  the 
Truth  that  was  taught  there." 

Bret  Harte  has  been  accused  also  of  "  admiring  his 
characters  in  the  wrong  place,"  as  Dickens  certainly  did; 
but  this  charge  seems  to  be  an  injustice.  A  scene  in 
Gabriel  Conroy  represents  Arthur  Poinsett  as  calmly  ex- 
plaining to  Dona  Dolores  that  he  is  the  person  who  se- 
duced and  abandoned  Grace  Conroy ;  and  he  makes  this 
statement  without  a  sign  of  shame  or  regret.  *'  If  he  had 
been  uttering  a  moral  sentiment,  he  could  not  have  been 
externally  more  calm,  or  inwardly  less  agitated.  More 
than  that,  there  was  a  certain  injured  dignity  in  his  man- 
ner," and  so  forth. 

This  is  the  passage  cited  by  that  very  acute  critic,  Mr. 
E.  S.  Nadal.  But  there  is  nothing  in  it  or  in  the  context 
which  indicates  that  Bret  Harte  admired  the  conduct  of 
Poinsett.  He  was  simply  describing  a  type  which  every- 
body will  recognize  ;  but  not  describing  it  as  admirable. 
Bret  Harte  depicted  his  characters  with  so  much  gusto, 
and  at  the  same  time  was  so  absolutely  impartial  and 
non-committal  toward  them,  that  it  is  easy  to  misconceive 
his  own  opinion  of  them  or  of  their  conduct.^  From  an- 

^  See  page  178,  supra. 


342  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

other  fault,  perhaps  the  worst  fault  of  Dickens,  namely, 
his  propensity  for  the  sudden  conversion  of  a  character 
to  something  the  reverse  of  what  it  always  has  been, 
Bret  Harte — with  the  single  exception  of  Mrs.  Treth- 
erick,  in  An  Episode  of  Fiddletown  —  is  absolutely 
free. 

It  should  be  remembered,  moreover,  that  Bret  Harte's 
imitations  of  Dickens  occur  only  in  a  few  passages  of  a 
few  stories.  When  Bret  Harte  nodded,  he  wrote  like 
Dickens.  But  the  better  stories,  and  the  great  majority 
of  the  stories,  show  no  trace  of  this  blemish.  Bret  Harte 
at  his  best  was  perhaps  as  nearly  original  as  any  author 
in  the  world. 

On  the  whole,  it  seems  highly  probable  — though  the 
critics  have  mostly  decided  otherwise — that  Bret  Harte 
derived  more  good  than  bad  from  his  admiration  for 
Dickens.  The  reading  of  Dickens  stimulated  his  boyish 
imagination  and  quickened  that  sympathy  with  the  weak 
and  suffering,  with  the  downtrodden,  with  the  waifs  and 
strays,  with  the  outcasts  of  society,  which  is  remarkable  in 
both  writers.  The  spirit  of  Dickens  breathes  through  the 
poems  and  stories  of  Bret  Harte,  just  as  the  spirit  of  Bret 
Harte  breathes  through  the  poems  and  stories  of  Kipling. 
Bret  Harte  had  a  very  pretty  satirical  vein,  which  might 
easily,  if  developed,  have  made  him  an  author  of  satire 
rather  than  of  sentiment.  Who  can  say  that  the  influ- 
ence of  Dickens,  coming  at  the  early,  plastic  period  of 
his  life,  may  not  have  turned  the  scale } 

That  Dickens  surpassed  him  in  breadth  and  scope, 
Bret  Harte  himself  would  have  been  the  first  to  acknow- 
ledge. The  mere  fact  that  one  wrote  novels  and  the  other 
short  stories  almost  implies  as  much.  If  we  consider  the 
works  of  an  author  like  Hawthorne,  who  did  both  kinds 
equally  well,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  much  more  effective 
is  the  long  story.  Powerful  as  Hawthorne's  short  stories 
are — the  **  Minister's  Black  Veil,"  for  example  —  they 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  343 

cannot  rival  the  longer-drawn,  more  elaborately  developed 
tragedy  of  *'  The  Scarlet  Letter." 

The  characters  created  by  Dickens  have  taken  hold  of 
the  popular  imagination,  and  have  influenced  public  senti- 
ment in  a  degree  which  cannot  be  attributed  to  the  char- 
acters of  Bret  Harte.  Dickens,  moreover,  despite  his  vul- 
garisms, despite  even  the  cant  into  which  he  occasionally 
falls,  had  a  depth  of  sincerity  and  conviction  that  can 
hardly  be  asserted  for  Bret  Harte.  Dickens'  errors  in 
taste  were  superficial;  upon  any  important  matter  he  al- 
ways had  a  genuine  opinion  to  express.  With  respect  to 
Bret  Harte,  on  the  other  hand,  we  cannot  help  feeling 
that  his  errors  in  taste,  though  infrequent,  are  due  to 
a  want  of  sincerity,  to  a  want  of  conviction  upon  deep 
things. 

And  yet,  despite  the  fact  that  Dickens  excelled  Bret 
Harte  in  depth  and  scope,  there  is  reason  to  think  that 
the  American  author  of  short  stories  will  outlast  the  Eng- 
lish novelist.  The  one  is,  and  the  other  is  not,  a  classic 
writer.  It  was  said  of  Dickens  that  he  had  no  "citadel  of 
the  mind," — no  mental  retiring-place,  no  inward  poise  or 
composure ;  and  this  defect  is  shown  by  a  certain  fever- 
ish quaHty  in  his  style,  as  well  as  by  those  well-known 
exaggerations  and  mannerisms  which  disfigure  it. 

Bret  Harte,  on  the  other  hand,  in  his  best  poems  and 
stories,  exhibits  all  that  restraint,  all  that  absence  of  idio- 
syncrasy as  distinguished  from  personality,  which  marks 
the  true  artist.  What  the  world  demands  is  the  peculiar 
flavor  of  the  artist's  mind;  but  this  must  be  conveyed  in 
a  pure  and  unadulterated  form,  free  from  any  ingredient  of 
eccentricity  or  self-will.  In  Bret  Harte  there  is  a  wonder- 
ful economy  both  of  thought  and  language.  Everything 
said  or  done  in  the  course  of  a  story  contributes  to  the 
climax  or  end  which  the  author  has  in  view.  There  are 
no  digressions  or  superfluities  ;  the  words  are  commonly 
plain  words  of  Anglo-Saxon  descent;  and  it  would  be 


344  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

hard  to  find  one  that  could  be  dispensed  with.  The  lan- 
guage is  as  concise  as  if  the  story  were  a  message,  to  be 
delivered  to  the  reader  in  the  shortest  possible  time. 

One  other  point  of  much  importance  remains  to  be 
spoken  of,  although  it  might  be  difficult  to  say  whether 
it  is  really  a  matter  of  style  or  of  substance.  Nothing 
counts  for  more  in  the  telling  of  a  story,  especially  a  story 
of  adventure,  than  the  author's  attitude  toward  his  char- 
acters ;  not  simply  the  fact  that  he  blames  or  praises  them, 
or  abstains  from  doing  so,  but  his  unspoken  attitude,  his 
real  feeling,  disclosed  between  the  lines.  Too  much  ad- 
miration on  the  part  of  the  author  is  fatal  to  a  classic  ef- 
fect, even  though  the  admiration  be  implied  rather  than 
expressed.  This  is  perhaps  the  greatest  weakness  of  Mr. 
Kipling.  That  a  man  should  be  a  gentleman  is  always, 
strangely  enough,  a  matter  of  some  surprise  to  that  con- 
scientious author,  and  that  he  should  be  not  only  a  gen- 
tleman, but  actually  brave  in  addition,  is  almost  too  much 
for  Mr.  Kipling's  equanimity.  His  heroes,  those  gallant 
young  officers  whom  he  describes  so  well,  are  exhibited 
to  the  reader  with  something  of  that  pride  which  a  show- 
man or  a  fond  mother  might  pardonably  display.  Mr. 
Kipling  knows  them  thoroughly,  but  he  is  not  of  them. 
He  is  their  humble  servant.  They  are,  he  seems  to  feel, 
members  of  a  species  to  which  he,  the  author,  and  prob- 
ably the  reader  also,  are  not  akin.  Now,  almost  everybody 
who  writes  about  fighting  or  heroic  men  in  these  days,  — 
about  highwaymen,  cow-boys,  river-drivers,  woodsmen, 
or  other  primitive  characters,  —  imitates  Mr.  Kipling, 
very  seldom  Bret  Harte.  Partly,  no  doubt,  this  is  be- 
cause Mr.  Kipling's  mannerisms  are  attractive,  and  easily 
copied.  That  little  trick,  for  example,  of  beginning  sen- 
tences with  the  word  "also,"  is  a  familiar  earmark  of  the 
Kipling  school. 

But  a  stronger  reason  for  imitating  Mr.  Kipling  is  that 
the  attitude  of  frank  admiration  which  he  assumes  is  the 


BRET  HARTE'S  STYLE  345 

natural  attitude  for  the  ordinary  writer.  Such  a  writer 
falls  into  it  unconsciously,  and  does  not  easily  rise  above 
it.  The  author  is  a  "  tenderfoot,"  discoursing  to  another 
tenderfoot,  the  reader,  about  the  brave  and  wonderful 
men  whom  he  has  met  in  the  course  of  his  travels  ;  and 
the  reader's  astonishment  and  admiration  are  looked  for 
with  confidence. 

Vastly  different  from  all  this  is  the  attitude  of  Bret 
Harte.  He  takes  it  for  granted  that  the  Pioneers  in  gen- 
eral had  the  instincts  of  gentlemen  and  the  courage  of 
heroes.  His  characters  are  represented  not  as  exceptional 
California  men,  but  as  ordinary  California  men  placed 
in  rather  exceptional  circumstances.  Brave  as  they  are, 
they  are  never  brave  enough  to  surprise  him.  He  is  their 
equal.  He  never  boasts  of  them  nor  about  them.  On  the 
contrary,  he  gives  the  impression  that  the  whole  Califor- 
nia Pioneer  Society  was  constructed  upon  the  same  lofty 
plane,  — as  indeed  it  was,  barring  a  few  renegades. 

When  Edward  Brice,  the  young  expressman,  "  set  his 
white  lips  together,  and  with  a  determined  face,  and  un- 
faltering step,"  walked  straight  toward  the  rifle  held  in 
Snapshot  Harry's  unerring  hands,  the  incident  astonishes 
nobody,  —  except  perhaps  the  reader.  Certainly  it  does 
not  astonish  the  persons  who  witness  or  the  author  who 
records  it.  It  evokes  a  little  good-humored  banter  from 
Snapshot  Harry  himself,  and  a  laughing  compliment  from 
his  beautiful  niece.  Flora  Dimwood,  but  nothing  more.  We 
have  been  told  that  Shakspere  cut  no  great  figure  in  his 
own  time  because  his  contemporaries  were  cast  in  much 
the  same  heroic  mould, — greatness  of  soul  being  a  rather 
common  thing  in  Elizabethan  days.  For  a  similar  reason, 
the  heroes  of  Bret  Harte  are  accepted  by  one  another,  by 
the  minor  characters,  and,  finally,  by  the  author  himself, 
with  perfect  composure  and  without  visible  surprise. 

Bret  Harte  makes  the  reader  feel  that  he  is  describing 
not  simply  a  few  men  and  women  of  nobility,  but  a  whole 


346  LIFE  OF  BRET  HARTE 

society,  an  epoch,  of  which  he  was  himself  a  part ;  and  this 
gives  an  element  of  distinction,  even  of  immortality,  to  his 
stories.  Had  only  one  man  died  at  Thermopylae,  the  fact 
would  have  been  remembered  by  the  world,  but  it  would 
have  lost  its  chief  significance.  The  death  of  three  hun- 
dred made  it  a  typical  act  of  the  Spartan  people.  The 
time  will  come  when  California,  now  strangely  unappre- 
ciative  of  its  own  past,  and  of  the  writer  who  preserved  it, 
will  look  back  upon  the  Pioneers  as  the  modern  Greek 
looks  back  upon  Sparta  and  Athens. 


THE  END 


INDEX 


INDEX 


"Abner  Nott,"  74,  321. 

"Academy,"    the    London,    on    Bret 

Harte's  portrayal  of  gamblers,  173. 
"Ah  Sin,"  a  play  by  Bret  Harte  and 

Mark  Twain,  234. 
"  Ailsa  Callender,"  248, 269, 270, 299. 
Alamo,  21. 
Albany,  birthplace  of  Bret  Harte,  i; 

Henry  Hart's    occupations    in,    11; 

Young  Men's  Association,   11;   12; 

lecture  by  Bret  Harte  in,  239. 
Albany  Female  Academy,  Henry  Hart 

an  instructor  in,  11. 
Alcaldes,  the,  duties  of,  121;  decisions 

by,  123,  124,  125-126. 
Alcott,  Bronson,  12. 
Alcott  family,  resemblance  of  the  Harte 

family  to,  12,  16. 
Aldrich,  Thomas  Bailey,  45. 
"Alkali  Dick,"  328. 
Allen,  Edward  A.,  326. 
"  Allow,"  "  'low,"  in  the  sense  of  declare 

or  say,  324. 
"Alta  California,"  The,  cited,  134, 140, 

144, 148, 181, 185-186, 192, 193, 196, 

204. 
Alvarado,  Spanish  governor,  102. 
American  Humor,  244. 
Angelus,  The,  308. 
Anthony,    A.  V.    S.,  boy-neighbor   of 

Bret  Harte  in  Hudson  Street,  New 

York,  1 1 -1 2;  after-meetings  with  in 

California  and  in  London,  12;  recol- 
lections of  California  in  the  '50s,  142. 
Apostle  of  the  Tides,  An,  64,  206. 
Archaic  words  in  Bret  Harte,  321,  324, 

325. 
Argonauts,  2,  60,  155,  218. 
"Argonauts,  The,"  Bret  Harte's  lecture 

on,  239,  259. 
"Argonauts  of  California,  The,"  cited, 

135,  168. 
Argonauts  of  North  Liberty,  The,  77,  148, 

215,  245,  287,  301. 
Argyle,  Duke  of,  267,  268. 
Arnold,  Matthew,  83. 
"Art  Student,"  13. 


Artemis  in  Sierra,  309. 

' '  Arthur  Poinsett, ' '  341 . 

Astor,  John  Jacob,  5. 

Atchison,  Bret  Harte's  lecture  in,  241. 

"Atlantic  Monthly,"  the,  Bret  Harte's 
first  appearance  in,  35,  47;  sale  of 
in  early  California,  197;  223;  Bret 
Harte's  contributions  to,  232,  233, 
245- 

Autumnal  Musings,  16. 

"Baby  Sylvester,"  156. 

Bagby,  George  W.,  327;  his  "The  Old 

Virginia     Gentlemen     and     Other 

Sketches,"  cited,  192  n. 
Baker's  City  Tavern,  New  York,  5. 
Ballad  of  the  Emeu,  40. 
Bancroft,  H.  H.,  his  "  Chronicles  of  the 

Builders,"  cited,  167. 
Barbour,  Judge,  133. 
Barker's  Luck,  295,  296. 
Barnes,  George,  39. 
Barrett,  Lawrence,  234. 
Barry  and  Patten,   their  "Men  and 

Memories  of  San  Francisso,"  cited, 

198,  199. 
Bates,  Mrs.  D.  B.,  her  "Incidents  on 

Land  and  Water,"  cited,  100, 128, 146. 
Beauty,  in  women,  its  development,  79; 

of  Bret  Harte's  women,  334,  335; 

beauty  in  literary  style,  338. 
Beefsteak  Club,  London,  275. 
Bell-Ringer  of  Angels,  The,  56,  77,  152, 

205. 
Belle  of  Canada  City,  A,  209. 
"Bench  and  Bar  of  California,"  cited, 

128. 
Benicia,  149,  198. 

Besant,  Walter,  Bret  Harte's  acquaint- 
ance with,  271. 
Bierce,  Ambrose,  51,  304. 
"Biglow  Papers,"  324. 
Black,  William,  Bret  Harte's  intimacy 

with,  271;  first  meeting  of  the  two, 

271;  272,  273, 
Blondes,  among  Bret  Harte's  women, 

247. 


350 


INDEX 


"Blue-Grass  Penelope,  A,"  79. 
Bohemian  Days  in  San  Francisco,  19, 

"5,  177. 
Bohemian  Papers,  44. 
"Bookman,  The,"  50  «.,  162. 
Borthwick,  J.  D.,  his  "Three  Years  in 

California,"  cited,  22  n.,  94,  120. 
Boston,  12;  Bret  Harte  in,  222,  223, 

224,  229,  230,  231;  its  characteristics, 

229-230;  lecture  by  Bret  Harte  in, 

239. 
"Boston  Daily  Advertiser,"  the,  223. 
Bowers,  Joe,  60,  61. 
5owles,  Samuel,  236,  236  n. 
Boy  gamblers,  154. 
Boy's  Dog,  A,33- 
Boyd,  Mary  Stuart,  paper  of,  cited, 

277. 
"Bret  Harte's  Country,"  cited,  50  n. 
Bret  Harte's  gamblers,  173. 
Bret   Harte's  women,  157.     See  also 

"Women." 
Brett,  Sir  Balliol,  later  Viscount  Esher, 

8. 
Brett,  Catharine.  See  Hart,  Catharine 

(Brett). 
Brett,  Catharyna  (Rombout),  grand- 
mother of  Catharine  (Brett)  Hart,  8; 

estate  of  on  the  Hudson  River,  9; 

sketch  of,  9;  a  founder  of  the  Fishkill 

Dutch    C^hurch,    9;    tablet    to    her 

memory,  9. 
Brett,  Francis,  9,  10. 
Brett,  Robert,  9,  10. 
Brett,  Roger,  grandfather  of  Catharine 

(Brett)  Hart,  8,  9. 
Broderick,  David  C,  37;  duels  of,  134, 

136. 
Bronte,  Charlotte,  275. 
Brooks,    Noah,   41,    135,    214,    220, 

236. 
Broughton,  Rhoda,  her  treatment  of 

ministers,  210. 
"Brown  of  Calaveras,"  77,  152, 177. 
Browne,  Francis  F.,  editor  of  "Lake- 
side Monthly,"  221. 
Brunettes,   preferred  by  Bret  Harte, 

247. 
Bryant,  Edwin, his  "California,"  cited, 

71. 
Buckeye  Hollow  Inheritance,  Th$,  248. 
"Bucking  Bob,"  96. 
Bull-fights,  202,  204. 
"Burgeoning,"  321. 


Bushnell,  the  Rev.  Dr.,  his  "California: 
its  Characteristics  and  Prospects," 
cited,  127,  199,  200. 

Byron,  Lord,  275. 

Cadei  Grey,  308,  315. 

"Cahoots,"  324. 

"Calaveras  Chronicle,"  the,  cited,  145; 
editor  of  in  a  duel,  193. 

California,  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil 
War,  36,  37,  38;  climate  of,  100- 
106;  society  of,  148, 149;  precocity  of 
the  early  California  boy,  154;  the 
gambling  element  in,  160-180;  lavi?h 
manner  of  transacting  business  in 
the  early  days,  181-184;  "trade  a 
wild  unorganized  whirl,"  181;  soar- 
ing prices,  182-184;  "washerwomen 
made  fortunes  and  founded  fami- 
lies," 184;  reaction  in  1851,  with  quick 
fall  in  prices,  185;  losses  by  fire  and 
flood,  186-187,  188-189;  first  public 
building  erected  in,  an  Insane  Asy- 
lum, 190;  life  of  the  farm  and  the 
vineyard,  190;  dealt  with  in  Bret 
Harte's  stories,  190;  literature,  jour- 
nalism, and  religion  of,  192-213; 
newspaper  men  of,  192;  churches  in, 
200-202;  California  children,  201; 
Bret  Harte's  representation  of  true, 
288,  289,  291;  open-air  life  in,  317- 

319. 
"California,"  cited,  71. 
"California:    its   Characteristics   and 

Prospects,"  cited,  200. 
"California  Christian  Advocate,"  the, 

201,  203. 
"California  Farmer,"  the,  191,  196. 
"California  Illustrated,"  cited,  102. 
"California  Indoors  and  Out,"  cited, 

63,  93,  147- 
"California  Life,"  cited,  145. 
California     newspapers,     early.      See 

Newspapers. 
"California  Pet,"  the,  141. 
California   pets,    155;    the   bear    cub 

"Baby  Sylvester,"  156. 
California  pioneers.  See  Pioneers. 
California  saloons,  the  bar  surmounted 

by  a  woman's  sunbonnet,  142. 
"California  Song,  The,"  61. 
" Californian,  The,"  39,  40,  44,  196. 
"Califomians,  The,"  cited,  85  ».,  96, 

208  n 


INDEX 


351 


Camberley,  Sussex,  the  Red  House  at, 
274,  283. 

Cambridge,  Mass.,  Bret  Harte  in,  223, 
224,  225,  226,  227;  229,  232. 

Canada,  relatives  of  Bret  Harte  in,  4; 
Bernard  Hart  in,  4. 

Canadian  Harts,  the,  4. 

Cape  Horn,  voyage  around,  55,  65,  67, 
143,  151,  181. 

"Capital,  The,"  failure  of,  251. 

"Captain  Carroll,"  178. 

Captain  Jim's  Friend,  161,  166. 

Carquinez  Woods,  The,  148,  209,  302. 

Casey,  James,  career  and  death  of,  n6, 
117-118. 

"Cass  Beard,"  33S. 

Castle  Ashby,  275. 

"Cavortin',"  324. 

"Central  America,"  the,  sinking  of, 
118. 

Central  California,  100,  loi,  190. 

Chaffee,  J.  A.,  the  original  of  Tennes- 
see's Partner,  165-166. 

Chagres,  65,  66. 

Chamberlain,  partner  of  Chaffee,  the 
original  of  Tennessee's  Partner,  165. 

Chapman,  John  Jay,  38. 

Cheney,  Warren,  327,  330. 

"Cherokee  Sal,"  162. 

Chesterfield,  Lord,  his  style,  331. 

Chesterton,  G.  K.,  on  Yuba  Bill,  22-23; 
86,  87;  on  Bret  Harte's  humor,  22, 
305;  on  Colonel  Starbottle,  176;  on 
Bret  Harte's  parodies,  306. 

Chicago,  Bret  Harte  in,  220,  221,  222, 
223 ;  lectures  in,  244. 

Children,  Bret  Harte's,  26,  29;  his  im- 
pression of  English  children,  29;  Cal- 
ifornia children,  153-155,  201;  his 
impression  of  German  children,  262, 
263. 

Chilenos,  148. 

Chinese  in  California,  92. 

Chinese  restaurant,  scene  in,  108. 

"Chronicles  of  the  Builders,"  cited, 
167. 

Churches  in  early  California,  200-202. 

Cicely,  304-305- 

"Circuit-Rider,  The,"  cited,  59. 

Civil  War,  California's  part  in,  37,  38; 
Bret  Harte's  poems  relating  to,  38, 
314- 

Clarence,  37,  296. 

Clemens,  Samuel  L.  See  Mark  Twain. 


Clemens,  Will.  M.,  50  n. 

"Clementina,"  79. 

Climate  of  California,  100-106,  317. 

Clubs,  London,  to  which  Bret  Harte 

belonged,  275. 
Cohasset,  Mass.,  Bret  Harte  in,  234. 
Colfax,  Schuyler,  8. 
Collins,  Col.  Arthur,  278  n. 
Coloma,  traits  of  gamblers  of,  169. 
"Colonel  Newcome,"  18. 
"Colonel  Starbottle,"  22,  83,  135-139, 

176,     192;     reintroduced    in     Bret 

Harte's  last,  unfinished  tale,  283;  337. 
"Colonel  Wilson,"  95. 
Colton,  the  Rev.  William,  his  "Three 

Years  in  California,"  cited,  58,  96, 

122,    188,    203;    conductor   of   first 

newspaper  in  California,  196  n. 
Commercial  agent,  Bret  Harte  as,  at 

Crefeld,  252,  261-262. 
Compton  Wyngates,  275. 
"Concepcion,"  105,  149. 
Concepcion  de  Arguello,  149,  232,  308. 
Concord,  Mass.,  227. 
Condensed  Novels,  the,  33,  40,  44,  306. 
Congregation    Shearith    Israel,    New 

York,  6. 
"Consuelo,"  148. 
Consul,  Bret  Harte  as,  at  Glasgow,  267- 

273 ;  the  consul  in  Bret  Harte's  stories, 

297- 
Contraltos,  preferred  by  Bret  Harte, 

247. 
Convalescence  of  Jack  Hamlin,  The,  177. 
Convicts,  Enghsh,  117,  129. 
Conway,   Moncure,   on   Bret  Harte's 

avoidance  of  "social  duties,"  276. 
Coolbrith,  Miss  Ina  B.,  49. 
Cornbury,  Lord,  8. 
Coullard,  Mrs.,  for  whom  Marysville 

was  named,  142. 
Cramblet,  Thomas  E.,  326. 
Crefeld,  252;  Bret  Harte  at,  252-256, 

26CH-265. 

"Cressy,"  26,  28,  78,  82,  83,  247,  294, 

324. 
Crime  in  California,  increase  in,  129, 

130. 
"Critic,  The,"  87. 
Crossfield,  R.  H.,  326. 
Cruces,  65,  66. 

Crusade  of  the  Excelsior,  the,  17,  212. 
"Culpeper  Starbottle,"    the    nephew, 

94. 


352 


INDEX 


Dana,  Charles  A.,  252. 

Del  Norte,  21. 

Delano,  A.,  his  "Life  on  the  Plains," 
cited,  185. 

Demi-monde  in  San  Francisco,  99. 

Denny,  G.  H.,  326. 

Desborough  Conneciions,  The,  275. 

Devil's  Ford,  62,  217. 

Dialect,  Bret  Harte's  dialect  poems, 
310;  his  Pioneer  and  other  dialect, 
321-329;  masters  of,  328;  humor 
essential  to,  328;  psychology  of,  329. 

Dick  Boyle's  Business  Card,  249. 

"Dick  Demorest,"  287. 

Dickens,  Charles,  his  influence  on  Bret 
Harte,  177,  284,  286,  339-342;  his 
letter  to  Bret  Harte,  312  n.;  Bret 
Harte's  poem  on,  312 ;  compared  with 
Bret  Harte,  342,  343. 

Dogs,  as  beasts  of  burden,  263-264; 
Bret  Harte's  tenderness  for,  287. 

"Don  Jose  Sepulvida,"  94,  96,  177, 
211. 

Donner  Party,  the,  72,  142. 

"DonaRosita,"  148. 

Douglas,  James,  50,  162-165,  309. 

Dow's  Flat,  309-310. 

Downieville,  164. 

"Dr.  Ruysdael,"  82. 

Drake,  Sir  Francis,  150. 

Drake's  Bay,  150. 

Drama,  the,  in  Pioneer  California,  198. 

"Drum,  The,"  38. 

Dubois,  Miss,  10. 

Duels,  132,  133,  134,  192,  193. 

Dumb  animals,  in  Pioneer  Califomia,99, 
155;  Bret  Harte's  tenderness  for,  287. 

Earthquake  in  San  Francisco,  216. 

Editors,  in  Pioneer  California,  Southern 
origin  of,  192,  193. 

Education  in  Pioneer  California,  197, 
198,  200. 

"Edward  Brice,"  345- 

"Edward  Everett,"  ship,  55. 

Eggleston,  Edward,  his  "The  Circuit- 
Rider,"  cited,  59. 

"El  Dorado,"  cited,  64. 

El  Dorado  County,  vineyards  in,  190. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  38,  139;  Bret 
Harte's  meeting  with,  227. 

"Emerson  in  Concord,"  cited,  139. 

England,  i,  2;  Bret  Harte's  lectures  in, 
244,  244  n.,  259;  publication  of  his 


stories    in,  259;    visiting    country 

houses  in,  266;  his  last  years  in,  274- 

284. 
English,  the,  in  Pioneer  California,  92. 
English  children,  29. 
English  convicts,  92. 
"  Enriquez  Saltello,"  148,  298,  328. 
Episcopalianism  in  early  San  Francisco, 

201. 
Episode  of  Fiddletown,  An,  paralleled 

in   contemporary  newspapers,   192; 

342. 

"Episode  of  West  Woodlands,"  the, 
209. 

"Esquire,"  the  use  of,  in  Pioneer  Cali- 
fornia, 193;  Bret  Harte's  humorous 
examples  of,  193. 

Eureka,  30. 

Everett,  Edward,  55. 

Expulsion  of  Mexicans  and  South 
Americans,  131. 

Eye-lashes,  and  Eye-brows,  Bret 
Harte's  description  of,  334,  335. 

"Ezekiel  Corwin,"  215,  301. 

Fair,  James  G.,  167. 

Fairfax,  Charles,  heroism  of,  119;  119  w. 

"Far,"  in  the  sense  of  distant,  321. 

Farnham,  Eliza  W.,  her  "California 
Indoors  and  Out,"  cited,  63, 93, 147. 

"Father  Felipe,"  211. 

"Father  Pedro,"  105. 

' '  Father  Sobriente,  "211. 

"Father  Wynn,"  209. 

Feather  River,  103,  189. 

"  Fetched  away,"  for  torn,  323. 

Field,  Stephen  J.,  107;  his  "Personal 
Reminiscences  of  Early  Days  in  Cali- 
fornia," cited,  107, 121, 122, 127, 132; 
first  Alcalde  of  Marysville,  121;  122; 
his  duelling  experience,  133;  his  ex- 
perience with  Terry,  136;  at  the  be- 
ginning of  Marysville,  141,  185. 

Fields,  James  T.,  47. 

Firearms,  carrying  of,  132,  133. 

First  Family  of  Tasajara,  A,  27,  79  »., 
249,  321. 

Fisher,  W.  M.,  his  "The  Calif ornians," 
cited,  85  ».,  96,  208  n. 

Fishkill  Dutch  Church,  9. 

"Flora  Dimwood,"  335,  345. 

Foot-Hills,  94,  100,  loi ;  foxes  and  rac- 
coons from  the,  as  pets,  155;  190. 

Fort  Hall,  68. 


INDEX 


353 


"Forty-Niner,"  definition  of,  54,  54  »• 
See  also  Pioneers. 

Fowke,  Gerard,  326. 

Francis,  Miss  Susan  M,,  47. 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  his  style,  331. 

Fremont,  Mrs.  Jessie  Benton,  34,  35. 

Fremont,  John  C,  34, 57, 58. 

French,  the,  in  CaUfornia,  92. 

Friary,  The,  club,  New  York,  5. 

Friend  of  Colonel  Starbottle's,  A,  Bret 
Harte's  last  MS.,  283-284. 

Frontiersmen,  the,  56.  See  also  Pio- 
neers. 

Frothingham,  the  Rev.  0.  B.,  207. 

Froude,  James  Anthony,  his  daughter, 
29;  Bret  Harte's  visit  to,  257,  258. 

"Fust-rate,"  for  very  well,  322. 

"Gabriel  Conroy,"  22,  72,  103,  177, 

234, 244, 24s,  294, 330, 341. 
"  Gait,"  in  the  sense  of  habit  or  manner, 

325- 

Gamblers,  boy  gamblers,  154;  Bret 
Harte's  gamblers,  173.  See  also 
Gambling  in  California. 

GambUng  in  CaUfornia,  19,  20,  160- 
180;  Bret  Harte's  pictures  of  and 

I  contemporary  accounts,  168-169; 
the  gambling  era  in  Sacramento,  170, 
172;  in  San  Francisco,  170-172;  de- 
velopment of  public  opinion  and  laws 
against,  172. 

George  Eliot.  208. 

German  children,  262,  263. 

Ghosts,  The,  ofStukeley  Castle,  275. 

"Gideon  Deane,"  210,  211. 

Gillis,  James  W.,  50,  51.  See  also 
"Truthful  James." 

Glasgow,  Bret  Harte  appointed  consul 
at,  265;  his  five  years  in,  266-273;  his 
reports,  267-268;  his  friendships  in, 
271;  departure  from,  273. 

Goddess  of  Excelsior,  The,  142. 

Godkin,  E.  L.,  307. 

Golden  canoe,  the,  159. 

"Golden  Era,"  the,  13,  32,  33. 

Grandmother  Tenter  den,  232. 

Grass  Valley,  164. 

"Gratuitous,"  339. 

"Greasers,"  148. 

Great  Deadwood  Mystery,  The,  231. 

Greeley,  Horace,  his  "Overland  Jour- 
ney from  New  York  to  San  Fran- 
cisco," cited,  153. 


Grey,  William,  his  "Pioneer  Times  in 
California,"  cited,  55,  109,  126,  129. 

Grey  port  Legend,  A,  232,  233. 

Griswold,  Miss  Anna,  her  marriage  to 
Bret  Harte,  33. 

Griswold,  Daniel  S.,  33. 

Griswold,  Mary  Dunham,  33. 

Gwinn,  W.  M.,  36,  37. 

Hardy,  Thomas,  76,  77,  208,  320. 

Hare,  John,  235. 

"Harper's  Magazine,"  277. 

Hart,  Benjamin  I.,  6. 

Hart,  Bernard,  paternal  grandfather  of 
Bret  Harte,  4-7 ;  career  of,  4-6;  secre- 
tary to  the  New  York  Exchange 
Board,  5;  prominent  in  the  Syna- 
gogue, S,  6;  in  the  militia,  5;  member 
of  clubs  and  societies,  5 ;  homes  of  6, 7 ; 
portrait  of,  6;  marriage  of,  to  Catha- 
rine Brett,  6;  marriage  of,  to  Zippo- 
rah  Seixas,  6;  family  of,  6-7;  death 
of,  7;  10, 13. 

Hart,  Catharine  (Brett),  paternal 
grandmother  of  Bret  Harte,  6;  mar- 
riage of,  to  Bernard  Hart,  6;  the  mar- 
riage kept  a  secret  by  Bernard  Hart, 
7;  her  lonely  and  secluded  life,  8; 
her  ancestry  and  family  connections, 
8-10. 

Hart,  Daniel,  6. 

Hart,  David,  6. 

Hart,  Elizabeth  Rebecca  (Ostrander), 
mother  of  Bret  Harte,  10;  her  religious 
faith,  II,  12;  life  of,  after  Henry 
Hart's  death,  13 ;  her  passion  for  liter- 
ature, 16;  moves  to  California,  17; 
death  of,  at  Morristown,  N.  J.,  19; 

233- 

Hart,  Emanuel  B.,  6. 

Hart  [Harte],  Henry,  father  of  Bret 
Harte,  i;  final  e  added  to  name  of, 
I  »./  birth  of,  6;  7;  at  Union  College, 
10,  18;  description  of,  10;  career  of, 
10,  11;  marries  Elizabeth  Ostrander, 
10;  II ;  homes  of,  in  New  York  City, 
11;  brought  up  in  the  Dutch  Re- 
formed faith,  becomes  a  Catholic,  11; 
principal  of  an  academy  in  Hudson, 
N.  Y.,  12;  other  places  of  residence, 
11;  ardently  espouses  the  cause  of 
Henry  Clay,  12;  death  of,  12;  his 
library  and  its  use  by  his  household, 
16;  230. 


354 


INDEX 


Hart,  Henry,  son  of  Bernard  Hart  by 
his  Hebrew  wife,  7. 

Hart,  Theodore,  6. 

Hart,  Zipporah  (Seixas),  Hebrew  wife 
of  Bernard  Hart,  6;  her  marriage  and 
family,  6;  7. 

Harts,  the,  in  Canada,  4. 

Harte,  Francis  Brett,  birthplace  of,  i; 
ancestry  of,  i,  4;  father  of,  1,6;  evo- 
lution of  his  signature  as  an  author, 
I ;  descriptions  of,  1-3, 4;  his  voice,  2 ; 
his  handwriting,  2;  pictures  of,  3;  pa- 
ternal grandfather  of,  4-7 ;  numerous 
relatives  of,  in  Canada,  4;  mother  of, 
lo-ii,  16, 17,  19;  boyhood  homes  of, 
in  New  York  City,  11;  in  various 
places,  12,  13;  boyhood  life  after  his 
father's  death,  13;  his  precocity,  15; 
his  early  studies  and  writings,  16;  ar- 
rival in  California,  17,  18;  begins  his 
career  as  a  professional  writer,  18; 
gambling  experience,  19;  as  express 
messenger,  21;  as  tutor  and  school- 
master, 21,  24,  26;  as  druggist's  clerk, 
24,  25;  as  printer,  24,  30,  32;  as  edi- 
tor, 30, 31, 48;  appointed  secretary  of 
the  Mint,  33;  marriage,  33;  his  man- 
ner of  working,  40-42 ;  editor  of  book 
of  poems,  40-42;  his  first  published 
book,  44;  first  editor  of  the  "Over- 
land Monthly,"  45;  the  publication 
that  first  made  him  known  on  the 
Atlantic  coast,  46-47;  his  Heathen 
Chinee  makes  him  famous,  49-50; 
professor  in  the  University  of  Cali- 
fornia, 51 ;  accuracy  of  his  account 
of  Pioneer  life,  53-54,  56,  149,  150, 
155,  189, 192;  fidelity  of  his  pictures 
of  Pioneer  friendship,  157;  four  sto- 
ries devoted  to  friendship,  161-167; 
moral  of  his  stories,  167;  his  portrayal 
of  gambling  in  Pioneer  California  sus- 
tained by  contemporary  accounts, 
168 ;  his  gamblers,  a  new  type  in  fic- 
tion, 176;  John  Oakhurst  and  Jack 
Hamlin  compared,  174-177;  his  atti- 
tude toward  his  characters,  178;  his 
religious  views,  206,  207;  departure 
from  California,  214,  217,  218, 219;  in 
Chicago,  220-222;  his  Eastern  recep- 
tion, 222 ;  visit  to  Boston  and  Mr, 
Howells,  223-227,  229;  meeting  with 
Lowell,  226-227,  with  Longfellow, 
327,  with  Emerson,  227;  in  Boston, 


229-231;  his  contract  with  James  R. 
Osgood  &  Co.,  232;  at  Newport,  232; 
his  literary  habits,  233;  as  a  play- 
wright, 234-235 ;  his  money  troubles, 
236,  237,  238,  240,  251;  his  lectures, 
238,  239,  244;  his  letters  to  his  wife, 
239-244,  251, 253,254,  256,  258;  im- 
pression of  Western  people,  243 ;  his 
health,  244,  259,  260;  his  dislike  of 
New  England,  246;  his  women  char- 
acters, 247-250;  his  patriotism,  249; 
appointed  U.  S.  commercial  agent  at 
Cref  eld,  252 ;  translations  of  his  works, 
255,  256;  his  impressions  of  German 
music  and  acting,  257 ;  visit  to  Froude, 
258;  his  lectures  in  England,  259;  pub- 
lication of  his  stories  in  England,  259; 
as  commercial  agent,  261,  262,  264; 
impressions  of  German  children,  262, 
263;  as  consul,  266, 267, 268,  269,  271, 
272 ;  in  Glasgow,  266-273 ;  his  reports, 
267 ;  causes  the  erection  of  a  memorial 
over  the  graves  of  wrecked  sailors, 
268;  glimpse  of  his  consular  functions 
given  in  Young  Robin  Gray,  269;  his 
stories  dealing  with  Scotch  scenes 
and  people,  270;  his  friendships  with 
William  Black  and  Walter  Besant, 
271;  his  monomania  for  not  answer- 
ing letters,  272;  granted  leave  of  ab- 
sence, 273;  superseded  in  the  Glasgow 
consulship,  273;  last  years  in  Lon- 
don, 274-292 ;  his  friendship  with  M. 
and  Mme.  Van  de  Velde,  274;  Mme. 
Velde's  influence  upon  his  work,  274; 
his  later  rooms  at  No.  74  Lancaster 
Gate,  274;  membership  in  various 
London  clubs,  275;  his  habits  in  later 
life,  275;  his  real  recreations,  275;  his 
proneness  to  escape  "social  duties," 
276,  277;  visits  Switzerland,  277-278; 
reasons  that  impelled  him  to  live 
in  England,  279-280;  yet  ever  a  de- 
voted American,  281;  false  reports 
about  him  circulated  in  America, 
282;  his  disinclination  to  be  "inter- 
viewed," 282;  his  character,  284-292; 
was  he  a  sentimentalist?  284-286; 
his  separation  from  his  family  in  his 
latter  years,  284;  at  work  until  the 
end,  283;  his  last  MS.,  283;  his  last 
illness,  283;  his  last  letters,  284; 
death,  at  Camberley,  May  5th,  1902, 
284;  his  faults  and  his  good  qualities. 


INDEX 


355 


287,  290;  his  devotion  to  his  art,  291; 
the  manner  of  man  he  was,  291, 312, 
320;  as  a  writer  of  fiction,  293-307; 
his  knowledge  of  human  nature,  297; 
his  dialect,  298;  his  humor,  300;  his 
satire,  300-302;  his  optimism,  307, 
316;  his  poetry,  308-316;  his  poem 

'  on  Dickens,  312,  316;  influence  of 
Dickens  on  him,  340-342;  compared 
with  Dickens,  342-343 ;  his  poem  on 
Starr  King,  313;  his  patriotic  poems, 
314-316;  his  treatment  of  nature, 
316-319;  his  style,  309,  330-346;  his 
.  style  in  poetry,  309,  313.337-338; 
defects  of  his  style,  330, 336, 339;  vir- 
tues of  his  style,  331,  333-338,  343- 
346;  his  vocabulary,  337-338;  his  at- 
titude toward  his  characters,  345, 346. 

Harte,  Mrs.  Francis  Brett,  her  marriage, 
33;  her  voice,  247;  removes  to  Eng- 
land before  Bret  Harte's  death,  279, 

Harte,  Eliza.  See  Knaufft,  Eliza 
(Harte). 

Harte,  Ethel,  Bret  Harte's  younger 
daughter,  279. 

Harte,  Francis  King,  Bret  Harte's 
second  son,  39,  279. 

Harte,  Griswold,  Bret  Harte's  elder 
son,  279. 

Harte,  Henry,  Bret  Harte's  brother, 

13-15,  17. 
Harte,  Jessaray.    See  Steele,  Jessamy 

(Harte). 
Harte,    Margaret    B.     See    Wyman, 

Margaret  B.  (Harte). 
Haskins,  C.W.,  his  "The  Argonauts  of 

CaHfornia,"  cited,  135,  168. 
Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  i,  83,  208,  244, 

245,  268,  276,  295,  342. 
Hawthorne  and  Bret  Harte  compared, 

281,  291. 
Hay,  John,  60,  287. 
Hayes,  President,  appoints  Bret  Harte 

as  U.  S .  commercial  agent  at  Crefeld, 

252. 
Heathen  Chinee,  The,  44,  49,  50,  50  «., 

51,  222,  300,  309. 
Eeir,  The,  of  the  McHtdishes,  250,  270. 
"Heiress  of  Red  Dog,"  the,  177. 
"Helen  Maynard,"  332. 
Helper,  H.  R.,  his  "The  Land  of  Gold," 

cited,  150. 
"Herbert  Bly,"  337. 
Herndon,  James  Lewis,  118  ». 


Heroines,  Bret  Harte's,  74-84, 246-249, 

334. 
Hinds,  J.  I.  D.,  326. 
Hittell's  "History  of  California,"  cited, 

54- 
Hoar,  Sherman,  his  resemblance  to  the 

hero  in  Left  Out  on  Lone  Star  Moun- 
tain, 167  n. 
"Honeyfoglin',"32i. 
"Honorable  Jackson  Flash,  The,"  192. 
Hoodlum,  155. 
Hooper,  J.  F.,  114. 
Horses,   in   San   Francisco,   99;   Bret 

Harte's  description  of,  333. 
House  of  Lords,  The,  club,  New  York, 

5. 
How  I  Went  to  the  Mines,  25. 
How  Old  Man  Plunkett   went  Home, 

113- 
How  Reuben  Allen  Saw  Life  in   San 

Francisco,  24. 
How  Santa  Claus  Came  to  Simpson's 

Bar,  27, 154,  232,  233, 302, 305, 333. 
Howells,  William  Dean,  his  account  of 

Bret  Harte,  2,  30,  39,  41,  223-227, 

229,  237-238,  290. 
Hudson,  N.  Y.,  home  of  the  Hartes  in, 

II. 
Hudson  River,  The,  16. 
Humboldt  Bay,  21. 
Humboldt  County,  21, 30;  wheat  crops, 

190. 
Humboldt  River,  68,  146  n. 
"Humboldt  Times,"  24. 
Humor    and   pathos,   300;   California 

humor,  303,  304;  Western  and  New 

England  humor,  303. 
Hyer,  Tom,  no. 

Idyl  of  Battle  Hollow,  The,  232. 

Idyl  of  Red  Gulch,  The,  234,  246. 

Iliad  of  Sandy  Bar,  The,  209. 

"Illustrated  News,"  London,  sale  of,  in 
Pioneer  California,  197. 

Imagination,  creative,  293,  294. 

In  a  Balcony,  33. 

In  the  Tules,  63,  161,  166,  188. 

"Incidents  on  Land  and  Water, "  cited, 
100,  128. 

Independence,  in  Missouri,  68. 

Indians,  30, 56, 70, 72 ;  Bret  Harte's  de- 
scription of,  73;  the  Calif ornian,  30, 
105,  212-213. 

Indiscretion  of  Elsbeth,  The,  262. 


356 


INDEX 


Insane  Asylum,  an,  the  first  public 
building  erected  by  the  State  of  Cali- 
fornia, 190. 

"Into,"  for  in,  323. 

Irving,  Washington,  35. 

"J.  W.,"  "Perils,  Pastimes  and  Pleas- 
ures of  an  Emigrant,"  by,  cited,  92. 

"Jack  Fleming,"  158. 

"Jack  Hamlin,"  22,  83;  his  dress,  97; 
99;  169,  173,  175;  compared  with 
"John  Oakhurst,"  176-177;  his 
prototype,  177;  his  character,  178- 
180. 

Jack  and  Jill  of  the  Sierras,  A,  81,  217. 

Jackass  Flat,  50. 

James,  Henry,  3, 163;  his  style,  336. 

"James  Seabright,"  209. 

Jeff  Briggs's  Love  Story,  249. 

Jeffries,  Richard,  319. 

Jewelry,  miners',  97. 

Jewett,  Sarah  O.,  83. 

Jews  in  Pioneer  California,  92. 

Jim,  322. 

Jimmy's  Big  Brother  from  California, 
113- 

"Jinny,"  78. 

"Joan,"  77,  24s,  246,  301. 

"Joe  Corbin,"  337. 

"John  Ashe,"  81. 

"John  Bunyan  Medliker,"  27. 

"John  Hale,"  230. 

"John  Milton  Harcourt,"  27. 

"John  Oakhurst,  Mr.,"  86,  173,  174; 
compared  with  "Jack  Hamlin,"  176; 
300,  304,  318. 

"Johnny,"  302. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  336. 

Johnson's  Old  Woman,  321,  322,  332. 

Johnston,  Richard  Malcolm,  325,  326. 

"Joshua  Rylands,"  58,  205. 

"  Jovita,"  333-334- 

Jowett,  Benjamin,  207, 

Judgment  of  Bolinas  Plain,  The,  235. 

"Julia  Cantire,"  249. 

"Julia  Porter,"  334,  335. 

Jury,  the  first  in  California,  122. 

"Kam,"  83. 

Kansas,  Bret  Harte's  lectures  in,  241, 

242,  243. 
Kay,  T.  Belcher,  iii. 
Kemble,  Fanny,  her  description  of  Bret 

Harte,  i ;  2,  221  ft. 


"Kicked  a  fut,"  325. 

King,  James,  career  and  tragic  death  of, 

1 16-1 17,  186,  195. 
King,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Starr,  33,  34, 

35-36, 38, 39, 207 ;  Bret  Harte's  poem 

upon  him,  313,  314. 
Kingston-on-the-Hudson,  10. 
Kinsmen  Club,  London,  275. 
Kipling,  Rudyard,  55,  107  «.,  208,  342, 

344. 
"Kitty,"  78. 
Knaufft,  Eliza  (Harte),  Bret  Harte's 

sister,  13,  17,  222,  232. 
Knaufft,  Ernest,  13. 
Knaufft,  F.  F.,  13. 
Kozlay,  Charles  M.,  publisher  of  Bret 

Harte's  lectures,  244  n. 

"Lacy  Bassett,"  166. 

"Lakeside  Monthly," the,  Bret  Harte's 

connection  with,  220,  221,  222. 
"Land  of  Gold,  The,"  cited,  150. 
"Lanty  Foster,"  74,  81. 
"Larry  Hawkins,"  95. 
Lawrence,  Ks.,  Bret  Harte's  lecture  in, 

241,  242. 
Lawyer,  the  Boston,  231. 
Lectvu-es,  by  Bret  Harte,  238,  239-244; 

edited  by  Kozlay,  244  ».;  in  England, 

259. 
Leese,  Jacob  P.,  149. 
Left  Out  on  Lone  Star  Mountain,  160, 

166. 
Legend  of  Monte  del  Diablo,  The,  35. 
Legend  of  Sammtstadt,  A,  262. 
Leighton,  Sir  Frederic,  260. 
Lenox,   Mass.,   i;  Bret  Harte's  stay 

there,  244. 
"Leonidas  Boone,"  27. 
Letters  by  Bret  Harte,  to  his  wife,  239- 

244,  251, 253, 254, 256, 258;  letter  to 

his  son,  256;  to  Mr.  Pemberton,  267; 

from  Switzerland,  277. 
Letts,  J.   M.,   his   "California  Illus- 
trated," cited,  102. 
Lewis,  Alfred  Henry,  327. 
"Liberty  Jones,"  25,  82,  146,  147. 
"Life  on  the  Plains,"  cited,  185. 
Lipper,  Arthur  &  Co.,  New  York,  6. 
Lispenard,  Leonard,  5. 
Lispenard  &  Hart,  merchants,  in  New 

York,  5. 
"Literary  Friends  and  Acquaintances," 

cited,  223. 


INDEX 


357 


"Literary  Landmarks  of  Boston," 
cited,  231. 

Literature  among  the  Pioneers,  196, 
197,  198,  200. 

London,  Bret  Harte  in.  See  England. 

Longevity,  of  Spanish  Californians, 
104;  of  Indians,  105. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  Bret  Harte's  meet- 
ing with,  227-228;  Bret  Harte's  opin- 
ion of,  228,  229. 

Los  Angeles,  149. 

"Los  Gringos,"  cited,  150. 

Lest  Galleon,  The,  and  Other  Tales,  44. 

Louisburg  Square,  in  Boston,  231. 

Love,  for  women,  78,  311,  312. 

"  'Low,"  in  the  sense  of  declare  or  say, 

324. 
Lowell,  James  Russell,  223,  227,  324. 
Lowell,  Mass.,  home  of  the  Hartes  in, 

12. 
Lower  California,  67. 
Luck  of  Roaring  Camp,  The,  44,  46,  47, 

49,  SI,  159, 162, 16s,  233. 

Macaulay,  his  style,  331,  336. 
McDougall,  ex-governor,  duel  with  a 

San  Francisco  editor,  193. 
McGlynn,  John  A.,  88,  89. 
McGowan,  "Ned,"  90. 
McPike,  Capt.,  60. 
"Madison  Wayne,"  56,  205. 
Maecenas  of  the  Pacific  Slope,  A,  249. 
Magee,  Prof.,  165. 
Magistrates,  California,  122-127. 
"Major  Philip  Ostrander,"  11. 
"Mannerly,"  321. 
Mark  Twain,  Bret  Harte's  first  meeting 

with,  39, 40;  45, 46,  SI,  229, 234,304, 

306,  327. 
"Martin  Morse,"  188,  189. 
"Maruja,"  149,  178,  338, 
Marysville,  Alcalde  of,  121,  122,  185; 

origin  of  name  of,  142;  146, 153;  gam- 
bling in,  173. 
"Marysville  Times,  The,"  192. 
"  Men  and  Memories  of  San  Francisco," 

cited,  199  n. 
Mercury  of  the  Foot-EiUs,  A,  27, 77. 
Mermaid  of  Light-House  Point,   The, 

ISO. 
Mexicans,  expulsion  from  the  mines, 

131. 
Mexican  and  Chilean  women  in  early 

California,  148. 


"Miggles,"  77,  163,  330,  339. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  his  style,  331. 

Miller,  Henry,  106. 

Miners,  the,  85;  their  gains,  112,  113; 

their  laws,  120,  121;  the  miners  of 

Roaring  Camp,  163.    See  also  Pio- 
neers. 
Mining,  primitive  methods  of,  158-160. 

See  Pan-mining;  Rocker,  the;  Sluce, 

the;  River-bed  mining. 
Mining  laws,  120,  121. 
Ministers,  in  Pioneer  California,  208, 

302;  Bret  Harte's  ministers,  208-212, 

302. 
Mint,  the  U.  S.,  California,  Bret  Harte 

as  secretary  of,  33;  34, 42, 52,  292. 
"Miss  Edith,"  310. 
"Miss  Jo,"  95. 
"Miss  Mary,"  246,  247. 
Missions,  the  Spanish,  212,  213. 
Missouri,  its  emigrants  to  California, 

S9,  63,  64. 
"M'liss,"  33,  163,  208,  234,  269,  296. 
Montague,  Henry  W.,  288. 
Monterey,  54,  149,  166,  187,  195. 
Monterey  County,  the  sheep  county, 

190. 
Montreal,  Bret  Harte  at,  240,  241. 
Morristown,  N.  J.,  19;  Bret  Harte  at, 

233,  234,  237. 
"Mr.  Adams  Rightbody,"  231. 
"Mr.  Callender,"  299,  328. 
Mr.  Jack  Hamlin^ s  Mediation,  205. 
"Mr.    John   Oakhurst."     See    "John 

Oakhurst." 
"Mr.  McKinstry,"  83. 
Mr.  Thompson's  Prodigal,  326. 
"Mrs.  Brimmer,"  33s. 
Mrs.  Bunker's  Conspiracy,  37. 
"Mrs.  Burroughs,"  77. 
"Mrs.  Decker,"  77,  175. 
"Mrs.  MacGlowrie,"  80,  248. 
"Mrs.  McKinstry,"  83,  84. 
Mrs.  Skaggs's  Husbands,  233. 
Mulford,  Prentice,  39. 
Murders,  frequency  of,  130-13 1. 
Murdock,  Charles  A.,  30. 
My  First  Book,  42. 
My  Friend  the  Tramp,  230. . 

Nadal,  E.  S.,  341. 

Nature,  as  treated  by  Bret  Harte,  27, 

316-319;  influence  of,  80,  318. 
Neighborhoods  I  have  Moved  From,  40. 


3S8 


INDEX 


Nevada  County,  vineyards  in,  190. 
New  Assistant  of  Pine  Clearing  School, 

The,  62. 
New  Brunswick,  N.   J.,  home  of  the 

Hartes  in,  12. 
New  England,  245, 246;  its  humor,  303. 
New  London,  Coim.,  Bret  Harte  at, 

234. 
New  Orleans,  ship-load  of    gamblers 

from,  arrive  in  California,  168. 
New  York  City,  Bernard  Hart  in,  4-6; 

the  Congregation  Shearith  Israel  in, 

6;  homes  of  Bernard  Hart  in,  6;  sons 
,    of  in,  6,  7;  9;  boyhood  home  of  Bret 

Harte,  11;  Bret  Harte  in,  222,  232; 

lectures  in,  239,  244. 
New  York  State,  i,  10. 
New   York    Stock    Exchange    Board, 

Bernard  Hart  secretary  to,  5,  7. 
"New  York  Sunday  Atlas,"  16. 
New  York  "Tribune,"  222. 
Newport,  R.  I.,  Bret  Harte  in,  232. 
Newport  Romance,  A,  232,  233. 
"News  Letter,"  the,  51,  51  n. 
Newspapers,  the  first  in  California,  91, 

195;  editors  of  the  early,  134,  192, 

193, 194;  tone  of,  194,  19s,  196.  See 

under  their  respective  titles. 
Newstead  Abbey,  Bret  Harte  a  guest 

at,  275. 
Nicaragua,  17,  65. 
Nicasio  Indians,  the,  150. 
Nichols,  Jonathan,  61. 
"Nigh  outer,"  for  nearly,  323. 
Night  at  Hays',  A,  206. 
Night  on  the  Divide,  ^4, 97, 103, 249. 
"No-account,"  322. 
"North  Liberty,"  245,  246. 
"Northern  California,"  the,  30. 
"  Notorious  Mrs.  Ebbsmith,  The,"  236. 

Oakland,  Cal.,  18,  19,  165. 
Oatman,  Olive,  73. 
Office-Seeker,  The,  245. 
"Old  Greenwood,"  56,  57,  58. 
"Old  Personal  Responsibility,"  137. 
"Old  Virginia  Gentlemen,  The,  and 

Other  Sketches,"  cited,  192  n. 
"Old  woman,"  for  wife,  322. 
Oregon,  68. 
"Oregon  and  California  in  1848,"  dted, 

72. 
Oregon  Trail,  68. 
"Ornery,"  322. 


Osgood,  James  R.,  231;  contract  with 

Bret  Harte,  232. 
Ostrander,    EHzabeth    Rebecca.     See 

Hart,  Elizabeth  Rebecca. 
Ostrander,  Henry  Philip,  10. 
Ostranders,  home  of,  in  New  York,  11, 

13- 
Ottawa,  Bret  Harte's  lecture  and  stay 

there,  240. 
"Our  Italy,"  cited,  104. 
Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat,  The,  48, 103, 162, 

163, 165, 174,  233,  300, 317. 
"Overland  Journey  from  New  York  to 

San  Francisco,"  cited,  153. 
"Overland    Monthly,"    the,     44,    46; 

Bret   Harte  its  first   editor,  45,  48, 

49,  51,  52;  its  bear,  45;  215,  216,  275, 

292,  312  ».,  327. 
Oxford  School  of  writers,  336. 

Padre  Esteban,  212. 

Pan-mining,  158-159. 

Panama,  65,  66,  67. 

"Pard,"  158. 

Parody  in  Bret  Harte,  306. 

Parsloe,  C.  T.,  234. 

"Parson  Wynn,"  302. 

Passage  in  the  Life  of  Mr.  John  Oak- 
hursi,  A,  174,  175. 

Pathos,  302. 

Peg-Leg  Smith,  57. 

Pell,  Mr.,  merchant,  New  York,  5. 

Pemberton,  T.  Edgar,  on  Bret  Harte, 
220,  229;  his  account  of  Bret  Harte  as 
a  playwright,  234,  235;  letter  of  Bret 
Harte  to  him,  267;  collaborates  with, 
as  a  dramatist,  286. 

Pemberton's  "Life  of  Bret  Harte,"  ex- 
tracts from,  24,  29,  103,  228,  229, 
239-244,  251,  253,  266,  275-276,  283, 
291. 

"Pendennis,"  293. 

"Perils,  Pastimes  and  Pleasures  of  an 
Emigrant,"  cited,  92. 

"Personal  Adventures  in  Upper  and 
Lower  CaUfornia,"  cited,  209. 

"  Personal  Reminiscences  of  Early  Days 
in  CaUfornia,"  cited,  107,  121,  122, 
127,  132. 

"Peter  Schroeder,"  298,  328. 

Philadelphia,  home  of  the  Hartes  in,  12. 

"Philandering,"  321. 

Phyllis  of  the  Sierras,  A,  27,  28,  317, 
341. 


INDEX 


359 


Piatt,  John  J.,  251. 

"Picayune,"  The,  editor  of  in  a  duel, 

193- 

Pike,  Lieut.  Zebulon  M.,  59. 

Pike  County,  ''Piker,"  59,  60,  62-64. 

*'Pike  County  Ballads,"  60. 

"Pioneer  Times  in  California,"  cited, 
55,  109,  126,  129. 

Pioneers,  the,  30,  47,  52,  54-213;  their 
youthfulness,  54;  their  good  looks, 
55;  their  intelligence,  55;  their  de- 
scendants, 55  ».;  their  sufferings  en 

,  route,  65;  crossing  the  Plains,  65,  68- 
71 ;  by  sea,  66-68;  their  food,  69;  their 

.  quarrels,  71,  72;  their  women  and 
children,  74-84,  78,  140-151;  varied 
employments  of,  86-89;  multiplicity 
of  tongues  among,  91 ;  dress  of,  97-98; 
energy  of,  105;  exuberance  of,  106- 
109;  misfortunes  of,  111-113;  courage 
of,  114-119;  law-abidingness,  120- 
121;  magnanimity,  127,  129;  long 
beards  of,  145;  friendships  among, 
157-167;  good  manners  common 
among,  173-174;  literature  among, 
196-197;  good  taste  of,  199;  their 
humor,  303,  304;  their  dialect,  323- 

324. 
Pioneer  women,  74-84;  beauty  in,  79; 

small  feet  of,  248. 
Pittsburgh,  Bret  Harte's  lecture  in,  240. 
Placerville,  iii,  123,  146. 
Plain  Language  from  Truthful  James,  49. 
Plains,  The,  crossing  them,  56,  60,  65, 

68,  69,  70,  71,  72,  167;  a  heroine  of, 

145;  effect  of  the  long  journey  upon 

women,  146,  147;  wolves  from  the, 

as  pets,  155. 
Poet  of  Sierra  Flat,  The,  232. 
Poker  Flat,  103,  164,  176. 
Poor  Man's  Creek,  164. 
Prairie  schooners,  70. 
Prepositions,  superfluous,  323. 
Priests,  the  Spanish,  211,  213. 
Princess  Boh  and  Her  Friends,  The,  232, 

249. 
Prize-fights,  and  prize-fighters,  194. 
Providence,  R.  I.,  home  of  the  Hartes 

in,  12. 
Publishers,  Bret  Harte's  relations  with, 

232. 
"Punch,"  197. 

Puritanism  in  California,  202, 203. 
"Put  to,"  for  harness,  324. 


Rabelais  Club,  London,  275. 

Rain,  fall  of,  103. 

Rainy  season,  102,  103. 

"R'ar,"  322. 

Reform  Club,  London,  271,  272. 

Reid,  Sir  Wemyss,  271;  references  to 

Bret  Harte   in  his  life  of  WiUiam 

Black,  271,  272. 
Reincarnation,  The,  of  Smith,  188. 
Relieving  Guard,  39,  313. 
Religion  among  the  Pioneers,  200-202, 

204,  205-206,  208. 
Return  of  Belisarius,  The,  46  ». 
Returned,  46,  46  n. 
"Rev.  Mr.  Daws,  the,"  209. 
Reveille,  The,  38,  39,  314. 
"Richelieu  Sharpe,"  27,  28,  29;  the 

precocious  love  affairs  of,  154. 
"Ridgway  Dent,"  81. 
River-bed  mining,  160-161. 
"Rise,"  for  ascend,  324. 
Road-agents,  22. 
Robson,  Stuart,  234. 
Rocker,  or  cradle,  the,  in  mining,  159. 
Roger  Catron's  Friend,  208. 
Rogue  River,  30. 
Roman,  Anton,  44,  45,  215. 
Romance  of  Madrono  Hollow,  The,  95, 

232. 
Rombout,  Francis,  8,  9. 
Rombout,  Helena  (Teller),  8. 
Rombout-Brett  Association,  9. 
Rose  of  Glenbogie,  A,  250,  270,  297. 
"Rose  of  Tuolumne,"  the,  78,  247,  300, 

317. 
"Rosey  Nott,"74. 
"  Rowley  Meade,"  324. 
Royal  Academy  Banquet,  Bret  Harte's 

speech  at,  259,  260. 
Royal  Thames  Yacht  Club,  London, 

275- 
Royce,  Josiah,  Prof.,  53,  86   «.,  134, 

152,  201. 
Ruskin,  316. 

"Russian  Envoy,  The,"  149. 
Ryan,  W.  R.,  his  "Personal  Adventures 

in   Upper   and   Lower   California," 

cited,  209. 

Sabe,  savey,  323. 

Sacramento,  57,  152,  154,  155,  158; 
gambling  in,  170,  172;  fires  and 
floods  in,  188,  191;  fighting  editors 
of,  192;  Uterature  in,  197. 


360 


INDEX 


Sacramento  County,  vineyards  in, 
190. 

Sacramento  River,  200,  204. 

"Sacramento  Transcript,"  the,  63, 
108, 129, 142, 144, 151,  iss,  193, 194, 
195, 196, 198, 204, 205. 

St.  George  Society,  5. 

St.  Kentigern,  269,  269  n. 

St.  Louis,  "Lucky  Bill,"  a  gambler 
from,  169;  Bret  Harte  in,  241, 
242. 

Salmon  Falls,  152. 

"Salomy  Jane,"  80,  321. 

San  Francisco,  at  the  outbreak  of  the 
Civil  War,  37,  38;  Bret  Harte  in,  32; 
processions  in,  98;  animals  in,  99;  cli- 
mate of,  loi,  102;  politics  in,  ii6, 
117 ;  scarcity  of  women  in,  in  '49, 141  ; 
the  "hoodlum,"  155;  early  citizens, 
158;  the  gambling  era  in,  170-173; 
early  development  of  public  opinion 
and  laws  against  gambling,  172-173; 
panic  of  1851  in,  185;  increase  of 
crime  in,  185;  Vigilance  Committees 
of  1 85 1  and  1856  in,  186;  great  fires  in, 
and  incidents  of,  186-187;  29  suicides 
in  a  single  year,  190;  its  later  atmos- 
phere, 215,  217;  Bret  Harte's  repre- 
sentation of,  true,  288;  Bret  Harte's 
poem  upon,  215,  315. 

"  San  Francisco  Bulletin,"  the,  44,  138, 
I73»  IQS;  tragic  death  of  its  editor, 
116-117,  173. 

"  San  Francisco  Call,"  the,  39, 134. 

"  San  Francisco  Daily  Herald,"  the,  36, 
112  n.,  173,  184,  193,  203. 

San  Francisco  gambling  saloons,  140, 
170. 

San  Francisco  horse  races,  148. 

San  Francisco  hospital,  140. 

San  Jose,  91, 143, 197, 198, 201. 

San  Ramon  Valley,  21. 

San  Raphael,  33. 

Sanitary  Commission,  38;  the,  and  the 
gambler,  169. 

Santa  Barbara,  149. 

Santa  Clara,  198. 

Santa  Clara  Valley,  190. 

Santa  Cruz,  123. 

Santa  Cruz  County,  89. 

Santa  Fe,  route  to  California,  68. 

Sappho  of  Green  Springs,  A,  177. 

"Sarah  Walker,"  335. 

Satire,  300. 


Saturday  Club,  the  Boston,  Dinner, 
222,  229,  276. 

"Saturday  Review,"  the,  313. 

"Scenes  from  El  Dorado,"  cited,  158. 

Scotch  characters  of  Bret  Harte,  298. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  320,  328. 

"Scribner's  Magazine,"  244. 

Sea  Cliff,  Long  Island,  252. 

Searls, -Judge,  126. 

Secret  ofSobriente's  Well,  The,  95. 

Secret  of  Telegraph  Hill,  A,  337. 

"Seeking  the  Golden  Fleece,"  cited,  128, 
129. 

Seixas,  Benjamin  Mendez,  6. 

Seixas,  Gershom  Mendez,  rabbi,  6. 

Seixas,  Zipporah.  See  Hart,  Zipporah 
(Seixas). 

Semple,  Dr.  Robert,  196  n. 

Senoritas,  148. 

"Sepulvida,  Don  Jose,"  94,  96. 

Serra,  Father  Junipero,  212. 

Shakspere,  in  California,  198;  his  ap- 
prehension of  human  nature,  295; 
321. 

Shepard,  vice-consul,  at  Bradford,  271. 

Ship  of  '49,  A,  54,  321. 

Shuck,  O.  T.,  his  "Bench  and  Bar  of 
California,"  cited,  128. 

Sidewalkings,  33. 

Sierra  County,  103. 

Sierras,  the,  68, 69;  bears  from  the,  as 
pets,  155,  161 ;  219. 

Simplicity,  313;  compared  with  cultiva- 
tion, 320. 

"Sir  James  Mac  Fen,"  270. 

"  Sixteen  Months  at  the  Gold  Diggings," 
cited,  86,  113. 

Slavery,  prohibited  in  California,  36. 

Sluce,  the,  in  mining,  160. 

"Smellidge,"  322. 

Smith,  J.  Cabot,  134. 

"Snapshot  Harry,"  345. 

Snow  in  Cahfornia,  103, 104, 164. 

Snow-Bound  at  Eagle's,  103, 230. 

Society  upon  the  Stanislaus,  The,  44, 
Si». 

Solitude,  319,  320. 

Sonora,  131. 

Sonora  County,  131. 

Sonora  River,  160. 

Sopranos,  absence  of,  among  Bret 
Harte's  heroines,  247. 

South- Western  girl,  the,  248. 

Southerners  in  Cahfornia,  36, 37;  resem- 


INDEX 


361 


blance  to  Spanish,  94,  95;  134,  135, 
192. 

Southgate,  Dr.  Horatio,  elected  bishop, 
201. 

Spanish  in  California,  93, 94;  gravity  of, 
94;  resemblance  to  Southerners,  94, 
95;  qualities  of,  96;  their  longevity, 
105;  horsemanship,  199;  the  Spanish 
priest,  211,  212,  213. 

Spelling  Bee  ai  Angels,  The,  310, 

Spencer,  Herbert,  his  style,  331. 

Split  infinitive,  the,  339. 

"  Springfield  Republican,"  the,  236  n. 

Squatters,  114. 

Stage-Coaching  in  California,  21,  22, 
22  n. 

Stanislaus  Diggings,  30. 

Stanislaus  Valley,  the,  190. 

Starbottle,  Col.  See  Colonel  Starbottle. 

Steele,  Henry  Milford,  279. 

Steele,  Jessamy  (Harte),  Bret  Harte's 
older  daughter,  279. 

"Stephen  Masterton,"  209, 209  n. 

Sterne,  Lawrence,  295. 

Stevenson,  R.  L.,  338. 

Stillman,  Dr.  J.  D.  B.,  his  ''Seeking  the 
Golden  Fleece,"  cited,  128, 129. 

Stockton,  98, 151, 190, 197, 198, 201. 

Stoddard,  Charles  W.,  21,  32,  34,  39, 
42,  48. 

Story  of  M'liss,  The,  44. 

Story  of  a  Mine,  The,  340. 

Stuart,  the  robber,  death  of,  114-115. 

Style,  Bret  Harte's,  330-346;  defects  of, 
330,  332,  336,  339;  virtues  of,  333" 
338,  343-346;  his  subtlety,  333-337; 
his  style  in  poetry,  309,  313,  337- 
338;  beauty  in  style,  338. 

Subtlety,  as  a  quality  of  style,  333-336; 
Bret  Harte's,  333-337;  over-subtlety, 
336,  337. 

Sue,  produced  in  New  York,  235. 

Sunday  in  California,  204. 

Supreme  Court,  Bret  Harte's  descrip- 
tion of,  340. 

Susy,  296,  336. 

Swain,  R.  B.,  33. 

Swett's  Bar  Company,  160. 

Swift,  Frank,  60. 

Swift,  Lindsay,  his  "Literary  Land- 
marks of  Boston,"  cited,  231. 

Swinburne,  his  metre  copied  by  Bret 
Harte,  309. 

"Sydney  Ducks,"  92. 


Tde  of  a  Pony,  The,  308. 
Tale  of  Three  Truants,  A,  104. 
Tasajara  County,  the  "cow  county," 

190. 
Tatnall,  Commander,  letter  from  to 

Bret  Harte's  mother,  15. 
Taylor,    Bayard,   his    "El    Dorado," 

cited,  64,  121. 
Taylor,  the  Rev.  William,  his  "Cali- 
fornia Life,"  cited,  145. 
Tearful  women,  as  described  by  Bret 

Harte,  335. 
Telegraph  Hill,  143;  pioneers  watching 

from  for  the  fortnightly  mail-steamer, 

145. 
Teller,  William,  8. 
Temperance  in  early  California,  205. 
"Tennessee,"  159,  161-162,  318. 
Tennessee's  Partner,  56,  63,  159,  161, 

162,  165;  the  story  suggested  by  a 

real  incident,  165 ;  166,  233,  284,  294, 

318. 
"Teresa,"  148. 
Terry,  Judge  David  S.,  136. 
Thackeray,  18,  245;  his  creative  imag- 
ination, 293,  29s; 328. 
Thankful  Blossom,  233,  245. 
Theatres  in  California,  198, 199. 
Their  Uncle  from  California,  3. 
Thoreau,  Henry  D.,  297, 318. 
Thome,  Charles  R.,  198. 
Thornton,  William,  alias  "Lucky  BiU," 

gambler,  169. 
Thornton,  J.  Quinn,  his  "Oregon  and 

California  in  1848,"  cited,  72.  ^ 
Three  Partners,  249,  295,  296. 
"Three  Years  in  California,"  Borth- 

wick's,  cited,  22  «.,  94, 120;  Colton's, 

cited,  58, 96, 122, 188, 203. 
Through  the  Santa  Clara  Wheat,  190, 

333. 
"Tinka  Gallinger,"  158, 159, 247, 328. 
Tolstoi,  76,  208,  320. 
Toole,  J.  L.,  collaborates  with  Bret 

Harte,  235. 
Topeka,  Bret  Harte's  lecture  at,  241. 
TourguenefiE,  76,  77. 
Transformation  of  Buckeye  Camp,  The, 

323. 
Treasure  of  the  Redwoods,  A,  159. 
"Trinidad  Joe's"  daughter,  78. 
Trinity  Church,  New  York,  8. 
Trinity  County,  21. 
Trollope,  Anthony,  293. 


362 


INDEX 


Truesdale,  Abigail,  11. 
"Truthful  James,"  50,  305,  310, 
Tuolumne  County,  165. 
Tuttletown,  50. 
'"Twixt,"  for  between,  321. 
Two  Americans,  The,  11,  335- 
Two  Men  of  Sandy  Bar,  produced  in 
New  York,  234. 

"Uncle  Ben  Dabney,"  193. 

Unde  Jim  and  Unde  Billy,  161,  166, 

319- 

Underwood,  Francis  H.,  273. 

Union,  24. 

Union  College,  Henry  Hart  at,  10, 18. 

"Union  Mills,"  317- 

University  of  California,  51,  216. 

Unser  Karl,  262. 

Upham,  S.  C,  his  "Scenes  in  El  Do- 
rado," cited,  158. 

"Use,"  in  the  sense  of  employ,  321. 

Vallejo,  Gen.,  149. 

Van  de  Velde,  Arthur,  274. 

Van  de  Velde,  Mme.,  2-3;  her  view  of 
Bret  Harte's  departure  from  Cali- 
fornia, 217;  in  London,  274;  transla- 
tor of  Bret  Harte's  stories,  274;  her 
influence  upon  him  and  his  art,  274; 
282;  her  country  seat  at  Camberley 
where  he  died,  283, 284. 

Van  Wyck,  Cornelius,  10, 

Views  from  a  German  Spion,  262,  263. 

Vigilance  Committees,  90,  114,  115, 
116, 117, 130, 136, 186, 216, 337. 

Virginia  City,  132. 

"Visalia  Delta,  The,"  editor  of,  killed 
in  street  affray,  193. 

Vision  of  the  Fountain,  A,'J9. 

Vocabulary,  Bret  Harte's,  321,  337. 

Voices,  of  Bret  Harte's  women,  247; 
his  own  voice,  2. 

Voyage  to  California,  65,  67. 

Vulgarity,  definition  of,  320. 

Waif  of  the  Plains,  A,  70, 73, 296. 
Wan  Lee,  the  Pagan,  341. 
Ward  of  the  Golden  Gate,  A,  155,  335- 
Warner,    Charles   Dudley,   his    "Our 

Italy,"  cited,  104,  105. 
Washington,  Bret  Harte  lectures  in, 


239;  his  account  of  the  Capitol  at, 
239. 
Watrous,    Mrs.    Charles,  letter   from, 

215- 

Watts-Dunton,  Theodore,  120,  297. 

Webb,  Charles  Henry,  39. 

West,  the,  its  humor,  303. 

Western  people,  Bret  Harte's  impres- 
sions of,  243. 

West  Point,  315. 

When  the  Waters  Were  Up  at  "Jules'," 
74,  78,  188. 

"Which,"  in  the  cockney  sense,  as  used 
by  Bret  Harte,  326-327. 

Who  was  my  Quiet  Friend  ?  338  n. 

Widows  in  Bret  Harte's  stories,  248. 

Wilkins,  Mary,  83. 

Williams,  Col.  Andrew,  Bret  Harte's 
stepfather,  18-19. 

Wise,  H.  A.,  his  "Los  Gringos,"  cited, 
150. 

Wombw«ll,  Sir  George,  271. 

Women,  the  Pioneer,  74-84,  150-151; 
respect  for  women  in  America,  77, 
147,  148;  development  of  beauty 
among  the  pioneer,  79;  Bret  Harte's 
literary  treatment  of,  247-250;  his 
conventional  women,  249;  his  army 
and  navy  women,  249;  snobbishness 
of  women,  250;  Bret  Harte's  keen 
observation  of,  334-336;  his  descrip- 
tions of  beauty  in,  334, 335. 

Woods,  D.  B.,  his  "Sixteen  Months  at 
the  Gold  Diggings,"  cited,  86, 113. 

Wyman,  Margaret  B.  (Harte),  Bret 
Harte's  sister,  13,  17,  19,  32. 

"Yawpin',"  324. 

"  Yerba  Buena,"  334. 

Yorkshire  Club,  York,  Eng.,  first  meet- 
ing of  Bret  Harte  and  William  Black 
at,  271. 

Young  Men's  Association  in  Albany, 
II. 

Young  Robin  Gray,  269,  270,  299. 

"Youngest  Miss  Piper,"  the,  160,  249. 

"Youngest  Prospector  in  Calaveras," 
the,  27;  not  an  uncommon  child,  154; 
208. 

"  Yuba  Bill,"  22, 23, 83, 303, 329, 339. 

Yuba  County,  vineyards  in,  190. 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   S    .   A 


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